Business Intrigue
by Jennai
Summary: RyoSaku It was a simple deal: pretend to be Ryoma's fiancee for three months in return for a signed endorsement and promotion. But things aren't always as they seem, especially when Fuji decides to have fun. ON HIATUS.
1. Reflecting and Dealing

**A/N:** Hey, everyone out there who loves POT! This is my first attempt at a POT fic, and this idea just suddenly popped out of nowhere while I was watching T.V. I've always adored Ryoma (my god, if only he was real...) and well, Sakuno and him seem kind of cute, if you get what I mean. But really, Sakuno sometimes make me want to knock some sense into her..sheesh! Sooo, here goes nothing! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Nope, I do not own POT. Never had, and never will. Nope, nope.

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**Chapter One: Reflecting and Dealing**

The crowds up on the stadium stood up abruptly as they applauded and screamed their hearts away at the twenty-two-year-old Echizen Ryoma down on the grass court. With a smirk, the cat-eyed boy settled in a world famous stance of his, and in a blink of an eye, he finished his opponents six-four with his infamous twist serve. Again, hordes of screaming fans bounced up and down on the benches, announcing their love and ever-loyalty to the prince of tennis at his winning yet another Wimbledon Championship.

Ryoma only smirked and pulled his white cap down.

It was only another grand slam title – which meant more fame, more money, and more screaming girls. How many wins was this? Eighty? No, it might've been ninety.

Ryoma shrugged. He didn't particular care how many tournaments he won, as long as he could still continue his consecutive winning streak. Ever since his participant at the U.S Open at the age of twelve as the youngest person alive to compete, he'd never lost a game.

Sighing, the young tennis star trudged back to the lockers, hoping that this time, the media would hurry and shut up with all these nonsense about him hooking up with some Hollywood star. Somehow, he had a feeling that his Ponta would have to wait for quite some time.

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"I told you, you _can't_!"

"Why?" Ryoma asked with annoyance as he glared at his manager. It was after the interview, and dressed in a simple white bloused t-shirt along with matching black khakis, he was calmly lounging in his president suite, sipping on a Ponta.

That is, he _was_ sipping on a Ponta until his rude agent refused his request.

"Because," his agent cried exasperatedly, "You need to train for the upcoming tournaments so that you'll be qualified for the U.S. Open. Not only that, you have a lot of photo shoots and advertisements coming up."

"Those can wait."

"No, they can't, because you already procrastinate it long enough. They're quite agitated with you."

Ryoma gave a rude snort as he took another chug at his grape soda. _Hmm…there was nothing like a can of grape Ponta after a sweet victory.._

His agent, a large and heavily built man with neat brown hair (which to Ryoma, looked as if he spent at least an hour styling every morning) and perfectly trimmed moustache in his late forties, sighed in impatience. Why he decided to spend his time dealing with an arrogant brat like this, he didn't know. Perhaps it was the affection built over these years, or perhaps it was the good pay. But whatever it was, he was balding and wrinkling too early from dealing with his stubborn mind.

"Look, unless you want all your contracts to be ripped away, I suggest you finish your jobs with the companies before you go off dallying in Disneyland or whatever place you want to go."

Ryoma turned his amber eyes towards him and blinked, as if he didn't have a clue, "I never said I wanted to go to Disneyland." He was rewarded with a frustrated grunt.

Oh yes, the Echizen family's rule number one to get what you want: _frustrate the person being requested. _

"You still have that endorsement to sign."

He widened his eyes surprise, "What endorsement?"

_Rule number two: Act innocent and stupid._

His agent hopped around the room in annoyance.

_Rule number three_:_ Make sure the person being requested is annoyed and irritated to the point of tearing his-or-her hair out._

"Why, Mr. Cordac, you might pull a tendon from doing all that bunny hop. But I've got to say, it suits you quite well. Perhaps you should enroll as a host for some children's T.V.? Say…Teletubbies?" This phrase was completed with a sweet smile, though anything that was supposedly sweet coming out of Echizen Ryoma seemed more sinister and evil.

Matthew Cordac (aka, Ryoma's agent) was on the verge of tearing his hair out.

_Very good, all going as planned._

_Rule number four: always make a deal right before he-or-she explodes._

"Now, now, Mr. Coradc, let's make a deal then. You let me go to Japan, and I'll sign whatever endorsement you have there for me. I promise that when I get back, I'll do all those interviews and photo shoots."

Cordac looked up, "What about the Roger's Cup? The Cinnicati? The U.S. Open?"

Ryoma shrugged, "It won't hurt my ranks if I don't go."

"I suppose you think that you're way ahead of the others, don't you?" was the dry reply. "What kind of excuse are you going to come up?"

"I fell down the stairs and pulled a tendon."

"Why is it that I have a feeling that you're going to go to Japan no matter what?" he groaned as he ran his large hands through his neat, gel-combed hair.

Finally,_ rule number five: Smirk and give yourself a pat on the back for a job well done. Oh, don't forget, celebrate with a can of Ponta._

Echizen Ryoma's reply to his agent was the popping sound of a can being opened.

_Mada mada dane._

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As soon as Ryoma left the hotel to go to some party hosted for the Wimbledon champion, Cordac slumped down on the sofa and rubbed his temples.

Echizen Ryoma, huh? For ten years, this boy – no, it would be young man now – had appeared out of nowhere, and dominated the entire tennis world with his skills, technique, and passion for this sport. Having never once dropped a game since his first grand slam title, the tennis star had become the center of attention, from both the sports and fashion media.

_He had a heart and mind of a champion_, the media had commented.

_The teenage heartthrob_, the teen vogue claimed.

But having been with him for the past ten years, none other than Cordac knew Echizen Ryoma better than he did. He was arrogant – always had been and always will be. He was self-centered, cocky, and ignorant to anything that didn't involve tennis. But he was still a boy all the same. He cared for his old man, even though he would never admit it even in the face of torture. He adored that blasted cat of his (who had found it amusing to litter on his documents). And there was always a fondness in the way he talked of his old childhood and senpais.

Lately, Ryoma had been getting unpredictable. He would come back late from partying smelling like beer and women. Sometimes, he would throw tantrums – not those childish kinds where one would toss priceless vases and wail like a banshee. No, he would smash his tennis balls so hard that it would break the hotel windows, which always ended up hitting someone on the head from the fiftieth floor. He would also play much more aggressively than usual, especially with that serve of his, and usually results to him winning by default because his opponent was either scared out of their wits, or too tired from chasing the ball.

Cordac only came up with one conclusion for his odd behaviour: too much tennis for the tennis star. Sounded ironic, but true enough. Yep, that was it. It_ has_ to be it, since that could be the only reason. When was it since he had a break? Shuffling through many important and unrelated thoughts in his mind, Cordac finally remembered that it was five years ago since young Ryoma had a vacation – to Siberia.

It wasn't a vacation, really. He was there to film some commercial which involved him in a bathing suit (no doubt, his fan girls would've fainted) in a minus forty degree temperature, and drinking some frozen sports drink alongside. Oh yes, like he predicted, he fell to a bad pneumonia the day after, and thus, had a month off. But afterwards, he went back to his routine of practicing tennis, media, tournament, media, party, tennis practice, media, tournament, media, party, tennis practice, yada yada yada….

Come to think of it, this vacation off to Japan would do him some good. Meet old friends like Momoshiro, Fuji, Kikumaru, and his old captain. Damn! What was his name again? Tezura? Tempura? Whatever. And maybe meeting that navigationally-challenged girl that Ryoma kept talking on about would help him with his weird mood swings.

As Cordac was lost in his deep thoughts, his blue eyes caught sight of a piece of A4 paper lying on top of Ryoma's coffee table. Picking it up, he scanned over the page.

_To all the old members of the XXXX Seigaku Tennis Club:_

_A reunion is planned for all members on August 22, XXXX at the Kawamura Sushi Restaurant located on XXX Street, Tokyo, across from XXX. It will run from 6:30 p.m. to 12:00 a.m. Please bring whatever food and drinks suitable to you, as it will be an all-you-can-eat sushi party made especially by your old friend and senpai, Kawamura Takashi. _

_Please R.S.V.P. before the fifth of August. We hope to see you all!_

_Yours truly,_

_Ryuuzaki Sumire._

Well, that explained Ryoma's sudden odd request. Perhaps this break would do him some good, Cordac thought, as he tossed the piece of paper behind him, leaving the invitation fluttering in the air.

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**A/N:** R & R! Construtive critiscisms are _always_ welcome!


	2. A Bunny Grown Up

**Chapter Two: A Bunny Grown Up**

**Disclaimer: **What do you think? Do I have to do this every time? No! POT doesn't belong to me…though in my mind it does…

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**_Tennis Heartthrob's Disappearance! Echizen Ryoma missing!_**

**_Written by Ukada Ayumi, Japan Tennis Weekly._**

_The twenty-two year-old Wimbledon Champion, Echizen Ryoma, was announced missing two days ago when the administrator of the Roger's Cup noticed that he had withdrawn from the tournament. A series of research tells us that not only had he withdrawn from the upcoming ATP series, he had also canceled all registrations for the Cinnaciti Cup and even the U.S. Open, where he would be defending his ninth consecutive title. _

_All his personal friends and tennis comrades, such as the number-two seeded Rafael Nadal, denied any information on his whereabouts. Echizen's manager, Matthew Cordac, refused to comment on anything, though he declared that he was "fine." _

_So, where exactly is our tennis prince? Did he really fell down the stairs and pulled his tendon? Or is he off somewhere, having the time of his life? An investigation will take place starting tomorrow on the whereabouts of our cool cat-eyed star._

_**Echizen Ryoma: His Life**_

_Consecutively winning four American Junior Tennis Championships title since he was eight, Echizen Ryoma, son of Echizen Nanjiroh (aka. The Samurai), has been the world's – _

Slamming the magazine shut with a loud thud, Ryuuzaki Sakuno gave an indignant huff. Goodness, does the world revolve only around Echizen Ryoma? It was Echizen this, Echizen that – well, _helloooo_? Does no one care about the world coming to an end from all the greenhouse effect, the degration of the ozorn layer, or endangered species getting even more jeopardized?

Nope. Nada. Zit.

Instead, they chose to focus their attention on a cocky tennis brat rather than the fact that other countries were ready to rip each other's throat out with nuclear bombs and weapons of mass destruction. Oh yes, it would seem that_ he_ was more important than the upcoming world war three.

However, Sakuno could not forget the rather sad fact that she, like half of the earth's female population, used to have a crush on the tennis prince.

Keyword: _used_ to.

Oh yes, it was love at first sight for the twelve-year-old – not to mention a naive and clumsy – Sakuno. Just a true and simple puppy love, that was it. She would always attend his games, muttering prayers under her breath. She would always use her precious time to bake him cakes and make him bentos. She would always, always, _always_ be there for him, whether it was rain or shine, hot or cold, you name it. She was there to give him her support.

But he didn't appreciate it at all. In fact, he didn't even notice her, turning a blind eye to her every move at every moment.

Yet, she would still pine after him, still hope that one day, he would notice her.

"Ryoma-kun, Ryoma-kun!" she would cry and whimper.

Sakuno winced at that thought.

Then, he _did_ start to notice her – ever since he knew that he would leave Japan for the U.S. Open. How she had been so proud of him then. Why, _her_ Ryoma-kun was going to be the youngest person in history to compete in such a huge event.

It was a bittersweet feeling at that time. He was going to leave Japan, leave Seigaku, leave_ her_ – not that he belonged to her, but there was this…odd attachment to him that she never realized until he told Seigaku of his departure. If he wanted to go and prove himself to the world, who was she to stop him?

Her last memory of him was the back of a boy wearing a white cap with tousled black hair sticking out, his hands full of junk that his senpais had stuffed him with. That memory had haunted Sakuno for three months. She had been too depressed to eat, let alone sleeping and playing tennis. She was like a ghost, gliding from one place to another, without really knowing where she was heading.

Her grandmother knew the reason, and though she tried her hardest trying to make her granddaughter feel better, there was no avail. Little Ryuuzaki Sakuno would not forget Echizen Ryoma so quickly.

It was one day when her best friend, the cheery (and tremendously deafening) Tomo-chan couldn't stand the depression in her friend anymore, that she threw up her hand in irritation, and _whack_ (it was so hard that it echoed about four times)! A handprint was printed right onto Sakuno's cheek.

It was a wake-up call. Painful, but effective.

"_Where did my cute and shy Sakuno go?"_ Tomoka had screamed. _"I want her! Instead, I get a little – a little _bunny_ who's all caged up and thinks to spend its life being miserable! Well, you know what, girl? I'm miserable too! So are Horio, Kachiro, Katsuo, and rest of the Seigaku bunny members! But they don't mope! Instead, those bunnies chose to chew their way out of that miserable cage and into a grassland full of carrots and lettuces!"_

Bunnies, huh? To Sakuno, it was a rather odd analogy of the situation, but well, that's Tomo-chan for you! Talk about imagination.

"_So what are you going to do? Be miserable the rest of your life and wonder what would've been, or move on so that you can become a rabbit?"_

And so Sakuno did. She shed that layer of her weak self and stood up for what she believed in, stuttered less in the face of embarrassment, and even forgot some of her clumsiness. Though she could never be loud and noisy, she was happy with the way she was – simple, quiet, and polite.

Sure, it was hard at first, trying to forget all those times with Ryoma, but like someone once said to her, time heals all wounds. Even now, she would still sigh in admiration over his games – but that was it. Simply admiration and none of those butterfly feelings she used to get when she stood before Ryoma.

The sound of her telephone ringing startled Sakuno out of her reverie.

"Hello?"

"_Sakuno-chan_!" a cheerful, high-pitched scream echoed into the ears of a wincing Sakuno.

"Tomo-chan! Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Psh! Work, work, work, blah! Who cares about work? Besides, my boss – what a dirty old perverted jerk, did I ever tell you that? – anyway, he's out somewhere, probably enjoying a lunch that cost around a thousand dollars per platter." She sniffed in distaste, "If you ask me, I suggest he spend that money on plastic surgery and a brain trasnplant. God knows he need it."

"Um…"

"Nya! But that's not important Sakuno-chan! I was wondering if you're free the day after tomorrow."

"Um…I think so…"

"Great!" an excited clap of hand was heard through the other end. "Ne, Sakuno, have I ever told you how much I love you as a best friend?"

Sakuno sighed. For some reason, she just _knew_ this would happen.

Call this sixth sense.

"What do you want me to do for you?"

"Hehe," Tomoka laughed sheepishly, "You know me so well. Can you do me a big, big favor, pretty please, with a large cherry on top?"

She exhaled noisily. "Depends."

"Well, you see, my boyfriend's birthday is the day after tomorrow, and we're supposed to hang out for the whole day at the beach, you know, barbecue and stuff. But my boss uh…denied me any permission to take the day off because I have to talk to this star about signing an endorsement deal."

Sakuno could just _see_ where this was going.

"And well, I just thought that, you know, since you have a whole week off, if you could take my place and…" Tomoka trailed off, hopeful as she waited for her friend's answer.

Silence.

"Tomo-chan, you know that I never do any of these stuff. I'm a secretary. S-e-c-r-e-t-a-r-y," Sakuno stated matter-of-factly, emphasizing on the last word. "You know how I am; I can't persuade people like you do. Besides, who's the person?"

"Don't know, don't care. I haven't checked." A pause, "Oh, please, please, _please_," Tomoka wailed at the other end, "It's only once. And with your pretty face, any man smart enough would agree!"

Sakuno flushed. "And what if the person's a woman?"

"Then let's hope that she's a lesbian."

That was just so Tomoka…

Somehow, Sakuno felt that her friend would not let her alone if she did not agree. Wincing at the squeals from the other end as she agreed, she scribbled down the place and time for the signing.

She sighed again. Lovely, it was suppose to be her big break off from work. Hopefully, this person won't be as snobby or obnoxious as some of the other ones she met. If they think that just because they were some big shining star and made advances on her, they would be wrong, wrong, wrong. After all, Sakuno always carried a pepper shaker in her purse – just for emergencies.

Shrugging off the uncomfortable feeling that things would be more complicated than it seemed, Sakuno switched on the T.V.

"_Last witnessess claim that Echizen Ryoma has been invovled in some underground society and was kidnapped in an attempt to fight off-"_

Sakuno swtiched the channel.

"_Fans of Echizen's gathered around the police station, raising funds in hopes that that would donate enough money to support the FBI and CIA investigation of the young star's disappearance. Believing that he was kidnapped, many-"_

She turned off the power and scoured the kitchen drawer for some advil. Her head ached of bunnies, Echizen Ryoma, and endorsements.

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**A/N: **Well, it's not much. The plot's only getting started! Can't wait until I get to type the real thing. To those who hoped for longer chapters: it's gradually getting there!

I apologize for the awkward dividers, but apparently, the dividers here aren't working properly, and some other ones doesn't work. I'll edit them as soon as they're working!

Thanks to all those who reviewed! Cheers!


	3. Straight or Not

**Chapter Three:** **Straight (or Not)**

**Disclaimer: **Why don't you read the chapter before?

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Echizen Ryoma hadn't been back in Japan for ten years, and in these ten years, nothing much had changed. There were still the same markets, still the same shops, and _still_ too many people. Well, at least, the only good thing about the no-change was that the vending machines by the sidewalk were still there.

Searching his pocket for coins, Ryoma chose his usual favorite drink and began sipping away when his cell phone rang.

"Yo, shonen," a gruff, (if not perverted) voice echoed cheerfully at the other end.

"…"

"You know its called proper etiquette to say 'I miss you so very much, father, or how are you, darling daddy? I haven't seen you for years and my heart bleeds from all the pain of wanting to see you,'" imitated an Echizen Nanjiroh in a high-pitched voice, followed by some cackling over his own joke.

He was greeted with silence.

"Hello?" his father yelled over the phone, "Eh, Ryoma, you there? What are you doing? I hope you're not making out with girls and forgetting your poor, old daddy."

Still no reply.

"Did I get the wrong number?" he asked, confused. "Because it's kind of hard to get the wrong number when its 111-1111, if you get what I mean."

There was no noise or sound, except for the background sounds.

"Man, whoever you are, you should at least have the decency to say hi. Sheesh, people these days."

Ryoma was in the midst of a dilemma. To hang up or not to hang up? That was the question. If he hanged up, it would seem rude, and anyhow, it was his father. But then, his head ached at the thought of dealing with an idiot like him; and since _when _did he care if he was being rude of not?

As Ryoma's hands were itching upwards to press the hang-up button, Nanjiroh suddenly said in a tone of wonder, "Oh, will you look at this? Headline from the Tokyo Daily: _Echizen Ryoma Spotted in a Tokyo Nightclub Dallying with Female Strippers_."

"WHAT!" Ryoma yelped. My god, he was so going to sue this Tokyo Daily.

Nanjiroh sniffed and cried, "My baby's all grown up. It seemed only yesterday when I was still wiping your tiny butt after going to the washroom."

"Oyaji…I'll tell ka-san where you hide your porn magazines."

"Ahahahaha, joking, joking. Can't you take a joke? Seriously, shonen, you need to get a sense of humor. Hey, let's make a deal, kiddo. If you don't tell your mother about those magazines, I'll lend some of them to you. They're very intriguing…and satisfying, kind of like the Chicken Soup for the Big Men's Soul."

Absolutely p-a-t-h-e-t-i-c.

"I'm not a pervert. What do you want?"

"Can't your father pop in to say hello? How disrespectful! We haven't talked for the longest time!"

Ryoma sighed and rubbed his temples. This was the price he had to pay for not trusting his instincts in the beginning.

"We only saw each other last week when you were coaching me for Wimbledon," he said dryly, chugging his Ponta at the same time.

"Oh? Right, I forgot. Teehee, blame my bad memory." A pause, "Oh, ew! My booger's stuck onto my clothes! RINKO, RINKO, WHERE ARE YOU! I NEED YOU TO GET THIS OFF ME!"

Fighting off the temptation of hanging up the phone, Ryoma asked impatiently, "What do you want, you stupid old man? I have a life, you know."

"Oi, oi, shonen, watch your mouth, is this the way to talk to your father? Now, come to the shrine tomorrow at five. I have some people for you to meet."

Ryoma frowned. "Who?"

"Oh, you'll see." And with that, Echizen Nanjiroh hanged up with a sly smile on his face. Boy, oh boy! His son was going to be in for a big surprise. How he loved surprises!

At the other side of the line, Echizen Ryoma's frown deepened. Somehow, his instinct told him he was in for some trouble.

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Trudging unwillingly up the steps to the shrine, Ryoma slid the door open. What he saw startled him: his father, whose face was flushed in a brilliant red color, was sitting cross-legged on the tatami mats by the dining table. He was happily downing cups of sake, while laughing his heart out at some poorly told joke that one of the three surrounding young girls had told.

Well, Ryoma's first reaction was to slide the shoji door close, and he _was _going to, except for the fact that his father had spotted him rather too early.

"Oi, shonen! Come in, come in!" Nanjiroh patted the empty tatami next to him, "We've been waiting for you."

The person in subject looked as if he had met Satan himself. Where was his mother? Where was Nanako? And _why_, of all the person in the world, did he have to suffer this kind of torture, and especially under his own father's hands?

Ryoma ignored Nanjiroh, and as he was about to turn around and walk out the door (for good, this time) he was pulled down by one of the three girls.

"Why, Ryoma-sama, it's an honor to meet you!" a blonde exclaimed. "Why, we heard so much about you! You know, about how you won four consecutive Jr. Championships since you were twelve, and how you defeated Senida when he was a third year, and you were only a first year at Semaku high."

Right. Just a few mistakes there, lady. First, he had won four consecutive Jr. Championships since he was_ eight_, and he had defeated _Senada_ (god, get the name right!) when he was a _first_ year in _Seigak_u high.

"Oh yes," another one of them, this time a brunette, added enthusiastically, "It's so awesome when you do that cool serve of yours – um…what was the name? Well never mind, but like I said, it's so cool and fast!"

Talk about the lack of vocabulary.

The last girl, a redhead, just blushed and nodded.

Ryoma didn't pay any attention to them, instead, he was busy glaring at his happy-go-lucky father. "What the hell is all this about?"

"Ah, don't be like that! Here," at this, he pointed to the blonde, "She's Alisa-chan, and the one next to her, the brunette is Elisa-chan, the last one is Melisa-chan. Cute, aren't they?"

Was this some kind of sick joke?

"So Ryoma-sama," something-or-other-chan purred, "What have you been up to, disappearing and then reappearing here in Japan?"

He ignored her and instead, pick up the tea that was set in front of him by his nosy father. Counting to ten under his breath, he slammed the cup down onto the table, splattering the hot liquid on his head.

The second something-or-other-chan screamed and immediately rushed for some napkins, and was about to carefully wipe it out of the tennis star's hand, when he slapped it away. Instead, he focused his attention on his father.

"Oyaji, out now!"

Nanjiroh looked at his son, and saw the fury hidden beneath those amber cat-eyes. Shoot! He wasn't a boy any more, and that meant he couldn't torment him like he a kitten grown into a tiger. Running his hand into his hair, he tsked and walked out the shoji door, followed by Ryoma.

"What," Ryoma bit out through his teeth, "Was that?"

"Don't worry about them telling the media. They swore on they're mothers grave that they wouldn't tell."

"You didn't answer my question."

Nanjiroh chuckled in amusement. "Ah Ryoma, I just thought that you needed a little…push along here and there."

"Push along here and there for what?"

"Oh, you know, for this and that."

Glare.

Nanjiroh scratched his head in sheepishly. So maybe this wasn't the best way to greet his son after a sixteen-hour flight from America – that usually tended to leave people quite grumpy. Ah, but what can he say when tormenting his arrogant son was about the most amusing thing after tennis?

"Alright, alright," he sighed, "Your mother (and I) are quite worried that you won't marry…considering that arrogant attitude of yours. You probably think everyone is underneath you. You know, we do want to have grandchildren soon before we die."

Ryoma was still shooting him death glares. "So that makes it alright to do whatever it is you want me to do?"

"Hey, I'm your father. If I ask you to skinny-dip, you'll have to skinny-dip." Before Ryoma could retort, he continued, "Now, now, I just wanted to see you have a happy life. You've been getting unpredictable lately, and I just thought you needed some outlet."

Right, since when did his father care about his well-being?

"Oyaji, I already have a fiancée." Okay, that was lie, but so what? If it could get his father off his back, he would lie about the most ludicrous things.

There was a momentary brief silence before Nanjiroh spat out the sake in his mouth and started laughing, while clutching his stomach for support.

"_You?_!" he cried, "Ahahahaha, no way! Oh, that's funny, good one, Ryoma, never knew you had that kind of sense of humor. Ahahahaha!"

Ryoma glowered, "It's true."

"Right," he crossed his arms, and gave him a sly smile, "Who is it, kiddo? One of those Hollywood stars, Paris Hilton or something? Or is it some tennis player? Like Maria Sharapova? Hey, you know, Sharapova wouldn't be bad. Don't like her grunting much, but she's easy on the eyes."

Ryoma resisted the urge to sucker-punch the entertained expression on his face. How he wished he had brought his tennis racket – that way, he could pinpoint it as an accident if some fuzzy green ball landed right onto his features.

"I do have one."

"I'm so very sure. I think that all these time apart made you a bad liar. Do you want some lessons? I'm giving them for free."

"I _do _have one."

"Oh, geez, Ryoma! Its good that you're persistent, but being that persistent is bad for the heart, you know."

Another glare. _"I do have one_."

"Humph!" Nanjiorh stuck his nose in the air. "Prove it."

"If I show her to you by the end of the week, you'll leave me alone with your insipid matchmaking?"

"That is if you actually _do_ have one." He paused, and the burst out laughing again, "Who in the right mind would have_ you_?"

_You have no idea, _Ryoma thought bitterly. He would prove that he could get anyone he wanted. _Just wait and see, oyaji._

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Storming out of the shrine, Ryoma walked down the street in deep thoughts, his hands in his pockets.

Damn, was he ever in deep trouble. First of all, he had said that he did have a fiancée. Second, he said that she was here, located in Tokyo. And last but not least, he said he would bring her to show to his stupid old man that indeed, someone _would_ have him.

Now, it was very, very, very true that half of the female population would just_ love_ to have their hands on the tennis star. In fact, they would love it so much that _he_ wouldn't have any of them.

In Ryoma's dictionary, the female species was either too loud, too stupid, or too clinging. They would be screaming at first, then they would start crying when one told them to shut up. But there were some shier ones; granted, they were a bit better and didn't burst his eardrums, but that was usually accompanied by clumsiness, foolishness, and stupidness, too.

Even though the cat-eyed man identified female creatures as the paragraph above, he still had his fair share of women. He never really needed to approach – they just came willingly like bees attracted to honey. It was fun playing around – just those little kisses passing around, corny words passing from one to another (although in Ryoma's case, the other side would've done all the talking).

Sleeping together was common, but the relationship (if it _was _ever a relationship to start with), it usually ended after that. They habitually got so clinging and emotional that Ryoma had to sometimes call the security guards to pry them off him. Really, he wondered if he was ever sexually harassed while in sleeping. It wouldn't be surprising if it proved to be true.

But they were just that to him: an emotional outlet and nothing else. He was –

His cell phone rang and Ryoma fought the urge to throw it in the garbage can. God, he was on a vacation here! Does no one ever take any notice?

"Hello?"

Great, it was Cordac.

"Ryoma, there's something you should know."

"Hnn…" He didn't particularly care.

"Have you read the latest Fashion article?"

"I don't read those nonsense."

"You know, you should get in a habit of reading those. You'll get an idea what the media thinks of you."

"Really? I had completely, zero idea," was the dry reply.

Cordac almost slammed his head on the wall. He just absolutely_ hate _that sarcasm of his.

"Well, anyways," Cordac gritted, "Here's their latest article on you. The headline: '_Echizen Ryoma Straight? Ten Reasons and Opinions why he is not._' It's quite amusing, actually. They claimed that you haven't been spotted with female companionship for three years, which, mind you, they're actually correct."

Ryoma narrowed his eyes.

"They also interviewed some of your ex-girlfriends. Apparently, they say that you don't pay enough attention to them, and that you're constantly talking to other guys on your cellphone during dates."

Ryoma gritted his teeth.

"Oh, this is my personal favorite out of them all," said an amused Cordac, "It seems that Echizen Ryoma's disappearance has to do with him being in denial of his obvious homosexuality, and that he ran away to seek self-comfort and therapy for his very poor soul."

Ryoma tightened his fist.

"Of course, these are all blunderings, so don't take it too seriously, though it might damage some of your contracts. I suggest you do something about it."

Silence.

"Um…Ryoma, you there?"

The person in subject was currently under whirling thoughts.

He never cared about what other's opinion of him was, but really, this was going _way_ too far.

Him, the great Echizen Ryoma, was pinpointed as not being straight? Seriously, if the media has nothing to talk about, there's always the suicide bombing that was happening in some faraway corner of the world, or there's Paris Hilton and one of her new plastic surgeries. But why, of all the things, did they have to pick _him_ as the subject of the topic?

Plus they got it all wrong. Wrong, wrong, _wrong_! He _did_ have female companionship in the last three years – in fact, he had one just a month ago! Even though it wasn't out in public, that didn't mean he didn't have any! What? Did they have to see a free sex show before it would finally satisfy their little hearts?

Even if he did talk to guys on cellphone, so does the rest of the people in the world. In reality, Ryoma's cell phone conversation were mostly talks with Cordac…yeah, as if they would be together. Stupid.

Lastly, he was _so_ not in denial. Are they blind? Or did they just have a brain the size of a pea?

It was enough with that whole female stripper thing, but this? Really, talk about the lack of imagination.

"Ryoma? Hello? RYOMA! You there?"

"What?" he bit out angrily.

"Alright, I know how you feel."

Right, as if. He wasn't the one pinpointed as gay.

"So, here's what I suggest. You have three months off, right? Well, after these three months, I suggest you scrap yourself some nice, young sapling – I think that would be particularly easy for you – and bring her to the next tournament prom."

"I don't have to explain myself to them."

"No, but you don't want them to think you're…different."

Shoot, he was right. So now he really had to find a stupid fiancée…just to prove to his stupid father and the stupid media that he was in fact, an ordinary person.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me…you have an endorsement to sign in about…" Cordac checked his wrist watch. "In about an hour."

Ryoma closed his eyes to keep a reign in his temper. "It's, my, vacation."

"Oh, but remember? You promised that you would sign any endorsement that I have for you."

Right, how could he forget.

As he strolled down the path while copying down the location, he turned a corner. His cat-eyes narrowed as he saw he back of a petite woman with two brown (and extremely long) pigtails stepped off the sidewalk, and onto the roads.

She didn't see the red light.

A car honked and was speeding itself at the woman, who seemed as startled as a deer caught in headlights while she remained froze, waiting for the impact.

It never came.

Instead, she was wrapped in a hard, compact body, both of them lying on the hard, cemented road.

Ryoma groaned in pain. Why, why, _why_ did he always have to play the hero?

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**A/N:** So, a slightly longer chapter. I'm really, really glad that people seem to be enjoying it as much as I'm writing it. I didn't expect to get so many positive comments, really, as it was only a practice for me to think on my toes. But thanks so very much to you all! Love you all!

I'm sorry if I offended any of my readers about the homosexuality part. I am absolutely fine with it - in fact, I have a few friends who are. I find that they make the best of friends and the greatest listeners!

Right, one more thing. I'll try to update at least once every two weeks since schools starting soon (NOOOOO!) but if I can't, I'll try at least once every month!

Cheers


	4. Crossroads

**Chapter four: Crossroads**

* * *

Sakuno was late for her appointment – actually, she was _always_ late. It wasn't a big surprise, really, when she found herself grabbing her purse and sprinting out the door of her small, cozy apartment like a frenzied madwoman. Only thing was, she suddenly remembered that she didn't lock her doors, and had to run all the way up again.

Thank god she lived on the fifth floor and not the thirtieth.

Glancing at the small, crumbled piece of paper in her hands every now and then, Sakuno jogged down the streets, searching for the café she was suppose to be about five minutes ago. Turning around a dark alley, she found herself positioned in front of an old, worn down shop. The large sign that was settled on top had words printed out in what seemed like a flamboyant red, but had faded due to years of heat and damage.

It read: _Hiratsu's Tennis Shop_.

Old images and memories flitted through Sakuno's mind. Apparently, she was late for her meeting (she wouldn't call it a date) with Ryoma, who was forced to go against his own will. He would always walk in front, and she would always remain a few feet behind, with her hands clasped tightly in front and her head bowed low. Being a girl that always preferred quiet conversations over compatible silence, she did try to pitch in every now and then. But oh no, the tennis boy just answered "yes," or "no," or some other one-word answer. How was she supposed to make a conversation over that?

She was almost to the point of breaking down from feeling like a burden when he had commented on her unusual behavior, as she was talking much more than usual. Okay, that was _it_ for Sakuno. She never did have a strong sense of pride – come to think of it, she never did have a strong sense of anything. Well, things ended with a Ponta and her heart still belonged to Ryoma.

Sakuno giggled at the thought. What a silly and insolent little girl she had been!

She suddenly halted all her thoughts and froze in a standstill position. Wait, why was she here again? Glancing at her watch with an accompanying groan, she turned and ran down the street as fast as her short legs could carry her. She was fifteen minutes late!

Mentally slapping herself and muttering curses under her breath, she was oblivious to the red light flashing above her head and right in front her. Instead, her senses completely closed to the world around her, Sakuno stepped down the sidewalk and unto the road. A loud honk startled her out of her little reverie, and she turned sideways only to view a speeding car shooting straight at her at sixty miles per hour.

Sakuno wanted to move - she really did. But she couldn't, partly due to her poor reflexes, and partly due to her having no time to even react. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she now knew why those people on the news who died in car accidents couldn't move in the face of getting hit. She had always thought them stupid. Why don't they just _run_? It was the logical thing to do! At least, they might be able to save a leg or two.

It's not as if they didn't think of it, it's just that they couldn't due to the fact that their hands and feet were frozen.

Waiting for the impact to come, Sakuno scrimmaged through her mind and came up with a list of everyone she had to thank. _Thank you, mum, dad, grandma for being there for me. Thank you, Tomo-chan, for supporting me all the way. Thank you – _the impact came.

Down, down, donw - she fell onto something hard, probably the cement, but there was also something hard _and_ warm on top of her – probably the car tires. Well, she was glad that was over so quickly. Sakuno was quite amazed at the fact that her death wasn't as painful as she thought it would be, and it was interesting to know that life _did_ continue after death. She had always believed more in reincarnation, but then, the prospect of being in heaven and playing the lute everyday didn't seem so bad.

"Ne," a deep voice echoed from above her.

Sakuno stilled. Was that…_god_? Something didn't feel right. The voice was nice, smooth, and easy to the ears, but there was this _vibration_.

"Are you alive?"

Okay, that was so definitely _not_ god. Sakuno slowly opened her eyes. Blinking slowly, she noticed that she was on the sidewalk once again and a nosy crowd had gathered to witness the event.

Oh, so she wasn't dead.

Her hands were rested on the cement, and her body was trapped underneath something – specifically someone's. The person shuffled his weight and rolled off her, standing up to brush the dust off his body.

Sakuno turned towards her savior, and was in the midst of thanking him for saving her life, when she looked into those awfully familiar pairs of amber cat-eyes. Her whole body froze once again and her mouth was set stationary in a "O" shape. It could just be a hallucination after the fright, or it could just be one of her wild imaginations, but Sakuno knew these pair of eyes so well that she could name the owner at two o'clock in the morning. And why she would be having illusions of Echizen Ryoma right after a near-death incident, she didn't know.

Truth to be told, whether he really was real or not, he looked extremely handsome – well,_ hot_, if one asked for Tomoka's opinion. Dressed in a simple pair of khakis and a loose sweater, his face was shadowed by a white cap. A pair of sunglass was held loosely in one of his hands, and he was staring straight at Sakuno. His features had definitely matured into a more rugged appearance, but there was still that same sharp nose, full mouth, and beautiful, beautiful cat-shaped eyes.

"Ne, are you done staring?" the image of Ryoma asked grumpily.

Unaware that she was staring, Sakuno immediately bowed her head to the ground and flushed a brilliant shade of dark pink.

"S-sorry," she stuttered. Even the illusion acted like him. Giving herself a pinch to see if this was a dream, she came to a conclusion that this person was_ not_ Echizen Ryoma, but simply just a Ryoma look-alike.

He put on his sunglasses and crossed his arms. "It's really none of my business, but how long were you planning to sit on the ground for? It's a really nice view from up here, you know." He didn't really car whether she wanted to sit there for an hour or not, but he also didn't really like the way the males in the crowds were looking at her.

Sakuno shot up at the speed of a rocket as her hands pulled down on her white pleated skirt as hard as she could. Her knuckles were white, and her face now the shade of a tomato. "T-thank you for saving me," she stammered, "I-I don't k-know how to r-repay you for your kindness."

Ryoma shrugged. He wasn't the type to ask for a pay back from doing some good deed – not that he wanted to do one, just that he thought it would be a sad waste of life for a girl to die so young. She was probably barely even eighteen.

"I-I h-hope you aren't hurt."

Damn right she was. For such a petite little girl, she was _heavy_. When he pulled her out of the car's way, he had grabbed her by the waist and they both tumbled onto the cement with his wrist landing first onto the hard, cold ground.

It was now swollen and in the midst of turning into a dark attractive shade of purple. He wouldn't be able to train for at least two weeks, considering that it was his left hand that got damaged. At least, he was ambidextrous and he'd have a good excuse about his sudden disappearance to the media after his return.

Not that the girl really needed to know that.

Instead, now that he had closely examined her, she was actually quite cute. She had a pair of doe brown eyes framed by curling lashes and a heart-shaped face. Her lips were lush and the color of baby pink; her nose was small and delicate, just like the rest of her body. All in all, she looked like the epitome of an innocent high school girl. Although he had to admit, there was something oddly familiar about her – too familiar.

"A-ano, can I do you any favors? I mean, y-you did save my life and all." Sakuno now had her eyes trained on Ryoma's right wrist.

Stuttering. Clumsiness. Pigtails that was too long for her own good. He _knew_ he had seen her around somewhere! Curse his mind for not being able to function properly!

"A-ano, mister..." she trailed off, and then continued hesitantly. "Um…Ryoma-kun? Oh, I'm awfully sorry, but it's just that you look awfully like a person I know – well, used to know, anyway."

_Ryoma-kun. _

That was when it clicked. She was that girl who had the worst tennis skills he had ever witnessed and also had zero coordination. She was that girl who was constantly there cheerleading the Seigaku team on, rain or shine. She was the one who brought him bentos and sweets (and they were actually quite decent), but only to run off crying most of the time, for whatever reason. She was the coach's daughter - _Ryuuzaki Sakuno._

Yes, that was her name.

It amazed Ryoma that he could remember an insignificant person of such little importance to his life. It wasn't as if he hated her; it was rather a feeling of indifference. He would come and go as he pleased, and she would follow like a loyal puppy, cheering him on here and there. It was kind of nice to have the support once in a while, but if he remembered correctly, she could get quite annoying.

"Hmm…" he smirked. "Look, little girl, do me a favor. Next time, look both ways before crossing."

Sakuno's face heated up. "I am _not_ a little girl! In fact, I'll bet that I'm probably the same age as you, if not a year or two older."

She really was adorable when she was mad. And well, he was quite proud of himself for curing that annoying stutter of her's.

"Really? Because it's odd that a woman of your age would cross a road without glancing both ways. Haven't your mother taught you that?"

"I…I was in a hurry!"

"Yes, and I'm sure that dying in the process doesn't help much."

Sakuno was speechless. What was wrong with this person? So fine, he had saved her from a sad death, and maybe he had the right to rub it in. But really, what was with the sudden attitude change? It's as if he snapped out of a daydream, and changed a personality alongside.

"Hey, can you tell me where this is?" Ryoma handed her a piece of crumbled paper. There was some tiny and messy scribbling in Japanese that read the address of some restaurant nearby.

"Oh, um…" Sakuno thought about it for a few seconds, and as if she had an epiphany, she beamed at him and said, "Just walk west of here, go down to the very end of the street where you'll see a sky train station, turn left, and it should be just right around the corner."

"Thanks," Ryoma said as he took the paper back from her. Before he turned around, he smirked. "Ne, Ryuuzaki, remember what I said. Look both ways before crossing."

Sakuno fumed in response. She was about to open her mouth and make an unpleasant retort, when she noticed that the man was already halfway down the street.

What an insufferable, conceited prick!

Sakuno glanced down at her own piece of paper. Peculiarly enough, it was the same address as the paper that Ryoma-look-alike had. The map pointed out to walk northward and turn a right corner by a bus stop.

Oops.

Sakuno smiled to herself sheepishly. There was really nothing she could do now; she could only hope that the man was bright enough to notice that he was out of place. Oh well.

Continuing on down the path (this time, looking both ways before crossing the road), she suddenly halted in her step. Something struck her as odd. She was absolutely positive that she didn't tell the Ryoma-look-alike her name.

"_Ne, Ryuuzaki, remember what I said. Look both ways before crossing."_

He couldn't actually be Echizen Ryoma, could he!

* * *

**A/N: **Well, they finally met…to those who wonder why the story is progressing on so slowly (which, to tell you the truth, I really don't think so), it's more of my style for the my story to built up the plot first, before getting into the climax. So, I'm sorry for those who thinks its going too slowly (or too fast for some), but bear with me!

**Tristel-san**: Yes, actually, I'm really quite in need of a beta-reader! And my grammar is really, really, and I mean _really_ not my best subject, as it's not my first language. Thanks for you're helpful advice ! It's greatly appreciated! About the whole media obsession over Ryoma, I didn't mean it to be funny – I was portraying real life events that won't shut up about a certain thing, and it does really annoy the heck out of me. But perhaps like you said, I'm a bit over the top?

So people, read and review! I barely made it in time to finish the chapter, and although I said I'm going try updating every two weeks, don't count on it. I'm packed every single minute, but I'm going to try updating at the very least every three weeks!


	5. Conditional Agreements

**Chapter Five: Conditional Agreements**

---

Ryoma glared at the view in front of him, seeing nothing but red.

_What a stupid, stupid, stupid girl!_

One would've thought that after ten years, Ryuuzaki Sakuno would be better at locating her way through Tokyo, a city in which she was born in, and a city which she grew up in for twenty-two (a whole twenty-two!) years.

But she was still as navigationally-challenged as ever.

He should've learnt his lesson ten years ago. The first time he had ever met her, she gave him the wrong directions, which resulted to him being expelled by the tournament officials for being tardy.

This time, she had given him the wrong directions to a restaurant, which would eventually result to zero contracts, less money, and the worst of all, an angry Cordac. Not only did his tardiness show his inability of being prompt, but it also expressed his incapability at being responsible about his job. The company _could_ and probably _would_ take the deal back.

Annoyingly enough, this endorsement, of all the others, was of extreme importance – to both his publicity and his compromise with Cordac. He had promised his agent that if he signed it, there would be a reward of three media-free months. But now, not only does it seems that he won't be getting his wish, he would probably have to deal with Cordac's temper afterwards.

It had actually taken him twenty minutes to realize that there was actually no sky train station, and by that time, he had already walked about two miles. When he asked a random teenager by the sidewalk where the restaurant was, the response was a terrified gasp and screams of elation at having seen Echizen Ryoma. It took all his will not to knock the hyperventilating teen over, but instead, he promised her a signed picture of himself (and a bit of petty cash as a side dish) in return for her silence and the whereabouts of the restaurant.

The teenager agreed immediately.

When he had truly gotten the location, he deeply regretted that he hadn't knocked the teenager silly. He was more than far way. It would take at least an hour by foot to his destination, and he had no time to spare. He would have to take a cab, which was always dangerous. Cab driver's were always looking out for some runaway star since they could get their hands on a cheque with a high number from some newspaper company.

But that ridiculous girl left him with no choice.

Before he had entered the cab, he made sure that his sunglasses were secured above his ears, and that they were set tightly in place, covering his infamous cat-eyes. He was also careful to make his voice higher than normal, but not so high as to be mistaken for a girl. He even went through all the trouble of buying some ugly hat (which, in his opinion, made him look like an old newspaper man) from a corner store.

All this trouble simply because of a wrong direction.

Brainless, dim-witted girl!

A twenty-minute ride and many curses later, he finally arrived at the stairs leading to the entrance of the restaurant.

It wasn't a restaurant at all, but a rather elegant and sophisticated small café with dome-shaped windows encased by wood. Forest green vines plastered against the gray concrete walls, framing the big Victorian doors of the miniature coffee bar. From what he could see, the inside was dimly lit, and was filled with laughing and cooing couples.

He silently praised the person for picking this location. It was ideal to chat about their agreements, as it was surrounded by a rather calm and serene aura, and the dim lightings would not bring attention to his features. The customers would probably be too indulged into each other's companions to even risk a glance at him. All in all, it was a perfect place, and whoever it was that chose it deserved some credit.

Hoping that the company representative did not leave already, Ryoma strolled up the wooden steps leading into the café known as the _Café du Coup de Foudre_.

---

Sakuno ran up the wooden steps and into the _Café du Coup de Foudre_, huffing and puffing as she surveyed the area. Couples were laughing and chatting, sipping coffee and occasionally munching on some dessert truffles.

An old man, dressed in a simple but graceful tuxedo walked up to her. He had a stereotypical mustache of a French artist, and his graying hair was gelled down sleek and smooth, giving an oily shine whenever he was under the light.

He gave her a slight bow, "How many for you today, miss?" Sakuno resisted the urge to giggle. There was even a French accent too!

"For two, please."

"Any reservations?"

"Um…yes, actually. I think there's supposed to be a table under the name of Sasabe Corporation."

"Ah yes!" the waiter exclaimed, "Right here, miss!"

Sakuno trailed after him through the mazes of intricately-carved tables, not knowing if the person (whoever he or she was) was there already. She could only pray that this celebrity was blessed with the virtue of patience, though from what she'd known and experienced, it was not to be so.

When they halted by one of the windows in the restaurant, the small European-style table was empty; only a single red rose and a lighted candle adorned the white table cloth. Sakuno was both surprised and relieved to know that she had not been late for her appointment.

She dumped her purse rather ungracefully onto one of the chairs, and sat down with a big sigh, whilst rubbing her sore legs. Looking around at the happy couples, she couldn't help but feel envious. It wasn't as if she never had any relationships before – oh no, far from it, she had countless of them.

A year after Ryoma had left (and she had gotten out of her bunny hole), she had dated this boy from another class, who had been smitten with her. She had thought he was rather cute, and it _was_ quite comical the way he had chased her, so she had decided to give him a chance. Well, it didn't turn out well at all. Two weeks later, he was spotted snogging a girl in the corner of some grocery store. Not that Sakuno cared or anything. She never really did have affections for him to start with.

Then there was the time when Tomoka had an epiphany, and decided that she wanted to play the game of matchmaking. She had made Sakuno go on a blind date with some random guy from Hyoutei for Christmas, and the outcome of it was rather sad.

The guy was pretty decent, so to say. He was a gallant young man, dressed very formally, and had a soft spoken voice to go along with. To Sakuno, he was one of the rare species of true gentlemen that was seldomly seen in these days. Unfortunately, still being the rather clumsy teen that every one knew of, she had accidentally spilt her drink over his shirt, flung a basket of garlic bread right into his hair, and pushed him down the stairs.

It was all accidental, of course. But still, convinced that the two of them had bad karma, the boy decided that no, they were not meant to be.

Oh well. Sakuno still really didn't care.

Funnily, she had gone out with Horio during Senior High. It was a rather awkward state. She was too quiet and shy for his likings, and he was too loud and braggy in her opinion (and as Tomoka quoted, "too froggy").

All throughout her college studies, she had a bit of relationship here and there, but nothing serious and_ real_. They were all simple puppy love – just those little bits of movies, holding hands, and goodnight kisses – but nothing more.

She _craved_ something real. Tomoka had always commented on how jealous she of her looks – her big, innocent eyes, her cute little mouth (not that she thought it was cute in any way), and basically, her whole girl-next-door look.

Ironically, she, in return, had always been quite envious of Tomoka's outgoing personality. Not only was she preppy, honest, friendly, and – though she may be quite loud and rude at times – she caught everyone's attention without even meaning to. To make it better, she didn't look bad. In fact, quite the opposite, she had the image of a preppy high school girl.

Mature men would never be interested in her – someone who was always in the shadow of her best friend.

"Ne," a deep voice startled her out of her ponderings.

Didn't she hear a voice like this before? Talk about a major déjà vu.

"Are you the representative of the…" the owner of the voice trailed off, and the unfolding sound of a piece of paper could be heard. "The representative of the Sasabe Corporation?"

Sakuno turned around and was about to answer when she froze at the sight before her. Her mouth was opened in an "O" shape, but no sound came out.

Yes, this was _definitely_ a déjà vu.

This time, however, instead of the other smirking at her facial expression, he had a startled look in his eyes, though his handsome features still remained as passive as ever.

To say Ryoma was shocked was an understatement. He was horrified at the thought that this silly little girl could be the representative of such an important company. Did the boss have a brain the size of a pea? Or was it because Sakuno had such a pretty countenance that it accounted for her abilities?

Years of training to be impassive had covered his astonishment well, and although it did shone through his eyes for a few seconds, he quickly recovered.

"Hnn…What a small world," he muttered, barely audible, before slumping down on the seat opposite to an astounded Sakuno.

She was still in the state of amazement when it dawned on her that her cocky (and fairly good-looking) savior was in fact, not a Ryoma-look-alike, but _the_ actual tennis star, Echizen Ryoma.

Normally, Sakuno would have found the situation rather amusing, but she had to admit, this was nothing close to being humorous. This was embarrassing! Not only had Ryoma saved her from a near-death situation, but she had given him the wrong directions to a very, very important meeting.

Oh, this was just _such_ a great way to start off the endorsement.

Now that he was only a few meters away from her, she noted that the photos of him in newspapers and magazines had not done him any justice. Oh, don't get her wrong, he was very, very, _very_ good-looking on T.V. and pictures. But in real life, he was what most teens would describe as…_hot_, and even – Sakuno had to struggle with herself for admitting to this – sexy.

She really didn't like using those two adjectives, but there were no other words that could describe him as perfectly as those two could.

With his sharp nose, full lips, unruly black hair, and tanned skin from years of outdoor training, Sakuno could understand the infatuation of the women, even those who were already married. But what she loved the most were those stunning eyes of his. They were a mixture of brown and green, but appeared more amber in the sunlight. Despite the fact that most of the time they were emotionless, there was something charming to it that drew Sakuno's breath away.

"It's rude to stare, you know," he commented lazily as he gazed at her through half opened eyes. "I thought you learnt your lesson out there when I saved you."

Sakuno wrinkled her nose in distaste. The way he said 'saved' made him sound like he was some kind of god. Maybe others might've agreed, but it was going a bit too far in her opinion.

"Well," Sakuno said, looking straight into those eyes that she knew so well. She made a promise to herself ten years ago that she would not stutter in anyone's presence, much less _his_, and she was resolving to keep that! "I guess I'll thank you one more time for saving me back there. But that doesn't mean you have the right to go bragging about it."

Ryoma blinked. It was interesting how she had suddenly changed personalities so quickly. He broke into one of his trademark smirks.

"That's not called bragging. I'm merely reminding."

"Right." Sakuno bit out sarcastically, and immediately regretted it. She wasn't normally like this – really, she wasn't!

"Hnn...Who would have thought that Sasabe Corporation would've hired someone as naïve as you?" It was more of a statement than a question

"Excuse me?" Sakuno huffed, her face flushing in anger.

"It's been a long time, Ryuuzaki."

Whatever _that_ was supposed to mean.

"Well, I can see that you haven't changed one bit. You still kept that cocky attitude and that annoying smirk of yours."

"You were drooling over the annoying smirk of mine's a few minutes ago."

"I was _not_!" she denied heatedly, "I was merely…"

Ryoma cocked an eyebrow. "You were merely…?"

"I was merely shocked at how small the world can be!" Even Sakuno knew how lame that sounded, and bashed herself silently.

The only response she received was the widening of a smirk.

"At least, I'm not the one who can't handle responsibility and ran off to some other country." Sakuno muttered quickly, both of them aware that she was trying to change the subject.

Ryoma rolled his eyes, tilting his head and gazed up at the gray ceiling. "I'm not running away." He was so very, very sick of hearing that! Everyone, including his father and his manager claimed that he was running away from his responsibilities. Exactly, _what _responsibilities did he have? Indulging into endorsements? Filming commercials? Or was he playing tennis just to please the bored people in the world?

"Then what would you call what you're doing?"

"I'm taking a vacation. There's a difference, in case you haven't noticed."

"It's still running away from responsibility."

"Hnnn…" Ryoma paused, then gazed at her intently, "I never took you as a hypocrite, Ryuuzaki."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're helping a friend escape _her_ responsibility."

Sakuno was startled. How did he know about it? And if he knew, would he actually tell their boss that they traded places?

"What friend? I'm just doing my job!"

"Really? Because I'm positive that your name is Ryuuzaki, while the person I'm supposed to be meeting right now is…" there was a sound of rustling papers, before he continued, "Osakada Tomoka."

Her eyes widened. "Th-That!" she searched for the right words. "Well, you see, she just, um…she was sick! Yeah! She was really sick, with high fever and coughs, so she couldn't attend!"

Ryoma made a rude, disbelieving noise.

"What? Don't you believe me?"

His silent response was an obvious answer.

"It's just that, you know, she can't even get out of bed," Sakuno twisted her fingers nervously, her eyes flickering from one point to another without it ever pausing on a certain spot for more than a second. "I mean, you understand, don't you?" She gave him a weak smile.

"Actually, I don't."

"W-well! It doesn't matter anyways! It has absolutely_ nothing_ to do with the topic at hand!"

"You can't lie, can you?"

"Exactly! I really c- I mean, I'm not lying!" Sakuno was, by now, redder than a tomato. She had to agree with her friend that she was indeed in need of an acting lesson. It was true that she hated lying – it just wasn't _right_. But there were times where she just had to. A little white lie would never harm anyone, right?

Much to her relief, a young waitress interrupted their one-sided conversation to ask for their orders, easing Sakuno's frenzied speech. After she had jotted down their drinks (and took several glances at Ryoma) she strolled off, still shooting skeptical glimpses back at their table.

Silence overcame them. Sakuno, who had never been accustomed to being subjected to stillness, spoke up first.

"So…let's start then, shall we?"

Silence responded her question.

"I'll take that as a yes," she assumed, while shuffling through her purse for papers and a pen. Finally founding what she was searching for, her doe-brown eyes scanned through the contract. "So, you're supposed to sign an agreement to the Sasabe Corporation to have the right to use you, your photos, your images, your phrases and what not, for commercial and advertisement purposes."

Sakuno looked up when she didn't hear any response. Almost immediately, she regretted it. Ryoma, rather than listening, was busy staring at her.

"What?" she asked, flustered. Her first reaction was to look down, but pride wouldn't let her.

He smirked. "I'm listening. Go on."

She glared at him before continuing. "In return, you shall receive one and a half million U.S. dollars each year…" there was a pause as Sakuno widened her eyes at the large sum, "And will also be supplied the newest Sasabe plasma T.V, a Sasabe laptop, and among other things. There's actually another list of details about things like 'you are not supposed to be seen with other company's electronic product', and what not."

She handed the paper to Ryoma.

Scanning it over, he was pleased to see that there wasn't any complicated wordings involved. Usually, he left this kind of analyzing to Cordac, but as he was not here, he would have to do it himself.

It was the number one rule of signing every single contract to_ read carefully_. There were usually hidden details behind the text, and it would strike anytime when someone was not prepared. Years of doing this had made him observant and picky – a top professional in the field of critical reading.

A few minutes passed as he read over the details, and spotting no problems, he handed it back to a patiently waiting Sakuno.

"I see no problem in it," he commented finally.

"That's great!" Sakuno beamed. Finally, now he could sign it, and then she could get the heck out of here!

"But…"

She frowned. "But…?"

"I'll only sign it if you do me a favor."

A pause.

"This isn't in the contract!"

"Still, if I don't sign it, wouldn't it be your friend's fault? After all, it _was_ her job to convince me to sign the endorsement. And if she went back appearing empty handed, wouldn't it be _your_ fault then?"

Disliking his reason (though shamefully logical), Sakuno's frown deepened. "What is it? As long as it's not anything bogus, insane, or stupid, then maybe."

"Maybe isn't enough."

"I'm not promising to anything that I don't know of!"

"Fine. Then no signatures." Ryoma shrugged.

Sakuno glared down at the swirling fluid that was her Columbia coffee, resisting the urge dump her drink onto the tennis star's head. The image of him squirming at the hot liquid gave her a weird but satisfying feeling.

But he was right.

If she didn't get his signature on that sheet of blasted paper, Tomoka would get yelled at, fired, and jobless.

And it would be all her fault.

She couldn't do that to her best friend who had always been there for her! Whether it was happy or sad, she was always, always, always there. Never had she let her down once! She just couldn't do that!

Ryoma, on the other hand, was finding the situation amusing. She was extremely cute when she was flustered, adorable when she was giving him the 'attitude,' and endearing when she was struggling with a dilemma. Granted, the dilemma was caused by him, but it was still cute.

He knew that it wasn't right of him to take advantage of the situation, but it was truly Sakuno and her friend's fault for deciding to switch places. This 'Osakada Tomoka' – who sounded quite familiar to Ryoma, but he just couldn't place it – seemed like a close friend. And knowing Sakuno couldn't stand being intentionally hurtful, she would agree.

If she agreed – which she would _have_ to – not only will he not be classified as different, but he would also have the joy of rubbing it into his father's face. Cordac would also drop his argument about getting a girlfriend, his reputation would be at peace, and everyone could be a one, big, happy family.

It was like killing two birds with one stone.

The situation still rested with the petite woman. It wasn't fair! Why did he get the upper hand? If she knew that this was going to happen, she would never had so willingly volunteer to take Tomoka's place. This, she decided, was all her friend's fault. Yet, where was she? She was probably loitering at the beach all nice and cozy, playing volleyball, and having the time of her life.

Still, she was her _best friend_.

"Fine." Sakuno agreed bitterly, shooting daggers at him, "But if it's anything way over the top, I'm taking it back."

Ryoma's trademark smile broke out once again.

"Very good, Ryuuzaki."

There was something in the tone that Sakuno dread.

"You are officially my fiancée for three months."

Yup, she was _so_ dead.

---

**A/N: **I'm soooo terribly sorry, people! I know I said that I'll update every two weeks, but to my knowledge, that is _not_ going to happen. Don't get me wrong, I am still going to continue, that's for sure. But it all depends on time. So, I'll definitely, definitely, _definitely_ try to update once a month at the very least, but I'm not making any promises. I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter, since the plot finally really started! Hugs and kissess to you all!

P.S. I do keep a posting of the whereabouts of my stories in my profile. So you guys are welcome to check from time to time to see where I'm at.


	6. Changing Minds

**Chapter Six: Changing Minds

* * *

**

Sakuno, who was in the midst of swallowing a mouthful of hot coffee, refrained herself from spitting and making a pathetic sight out of herself. Instead, she swallowed down the hot liquid with an amazing will she never knew she possessed, and she could feel the blazing hot fluid worming their way down her trachea.

_Disgusting, _Sakuno thought, as she tried to cough up the fluid that went down the wrong way. _I deserve an Oscar for that performance._

When she had cleared her throat of whatever liquid that was left, she looked up and found Ryoma staring amusedly at her. She cocked her head for a minute, forgetting what in the world had just happened. Then, realization hit her. Oh! If she could just have stayed in her own little world, things would've been so much less complicated.

"_You are my fiancée for three months." _Ryoma had said.

Right. As if she would allow _that _to ever happen.

"You're kidding, right? Because it's not the least bit amusing." Sakuno exclaimed, shaking her head furiously.

"I don't joke, Ryuuzaki."

"B-but why do you need a fiancée anyway? Why don't you ask your girlfriend to be one then?"

"I dumped her."

"Oh."

"Look, Ryuuzaki," Ryoma leaned forward, his hands now rested on the table. "Don't get me wrong. I don't need someone to play a clingy little dumb housewife. What I need is someone who I can pretend to play the perfect couple, and not make me a fool."

"Well, you sure picked the wrong person," she muttered under her breath, barely audible enough for Ryoma to hear. She then glared at him, "There is absolutely no way I'm going to do it!"

"Are you sure that's you're answer?"

"Of course I'm sure that I'm sure!" she replied indignantly.

"Fine," Ryoma shrugged, a little smirk appearing on his face, "No endorsement then."

Oh. Yeah. There was _that_, too!

"Y-you impeccable, ignorant, selfish person! You're impossible!"

"Why, thank you. I'll take that as a compliment."

Sakuno really, really wanted to tear her hair out – literally. "Look, you can't just go up to some random stranger that you're making a business agreement with, and I repeat: _business_, and ask her to play fiancée. Not only that, you're threatening her position in her job!"

Ryoma blinked. "But I just did."

"I-it's _wrong_! There's a rule against that!"

"Really? I never knew."

"Urgh! You're impossible!"

"You already said that."

If she didn't already see the clear and focused glint in his eyes, Sakuno would've thought there might've been something wrong with him – a bump on his head, perhaps? He was frustrated, she could tell, but there was no way she'd let him have the satisfaction.

"Echizen-kun, please just sign it, and then we can leave and lead our own lives again."

Ryoma felt a distinct contentment at seeing the desperate look in her eyes. He knew that he should be feeling guilty for making an innocent and silly girl doing things that would result to his advantage, but somehow, he didn't feel guilty at all. Interestingly enough, he found this to be quite entertaining. Other women would've jumped at the chance to be with him, but she was so not clingy that she wished she'd be a bit more…well, _clingy_.

He just curled his lips and waited. Yes, Echizen Ryoma was a patient man.

Sakuno's only response was a steady, hefty look that finalized her answer.

"So that's your answer?" Ryoma asked lazily. From a certain point of view, he may have looked like he didn't give a wit about her answer, but for some odd reason unbeknownst to him, there was a tightened clench around his heart.

_What was that? _Ryoma's mind swirled. _You don't care, right? She's just a pathetic slip of a girl. A really stupid girl!_

Seeing the tension that he fought so hard to hide, Sakuno's eyes softened, sighed and clasped her hand, gazing out at the window before turning to him.

"Look, Echizen-kun, it's really not…right for me to do this. What if it gets out? How would we deal with this? I like my privacy, you know, and I'm sure you're reputation would be in ruins. I'm just a silly little girl from nowhere. I'm not fit to be a princess." She gave him a small, reassuring smile.

Ryoma gave her a hard stare, before replying, his voice taut, "So the endorsement means nothing to you?"

Biting her lips, she answered deftly, "Yes, it does mean something to me, but not enough to jeopardize my life."

"But enough to jeopardize your friend's?"

There was a pause before she replied, "Yes and no. Yes, because she'll understand. No, because she's always been there for me, through the hardest times, especially when you…" she caught herself, smiled, and continued, "Anyways, she's been there for me, and it's absolutely wrong for me to take away her job…but I'm sure I'll find a way…I'll convince my boss one way or another."

"Confident, aren't we?"

"In this subject, yes."

It amazed Ryoma at how quick Sakuno's personality changed. From one minute, she was a stuttering, shy girl who lacked self-confidence and gave a whole new definition to the term 'clumsiness,' whilst just a few more minutes later, she was a confident, mature woman who knew where she was in life.

He didn't know which Sakuno he liked better, and he didn't particularly cared. Right now, his patience was wearing thin, and there was always one rule in his handbook that he had never broken: _he always got what he always wanted_.

And he wasn't about to break that rule – not now, not ever.

"I'll add one more thing to the bargain – no, actually, two. One, I'll promote both you and your friend. Two, you don't have to appear with me to public functions, just small events such as a reunion of some sort, where no media is present."

Sakuno looked at him incredulously, "You never give up do you?"

"That's why I never lose."

"Yeah, and cocky too," Sakuno muttered, not audible to anyone but her ears. Her patience finally snapping, she answered loudly, "No, no, and no! For the millionth times, _no_! I'm through with this!"

With an irritated glance at him, she stood up, grabbed her coat and stormed away, without looking back. Rushing, she bumped into several customers that were strolling back from the washrooms, and even managed to tangle herself with a waiter. Mumbles of apologies could be heard throughout the restaurant.

_Girls! _Ryoma scoffed in his mind. They were so weird – even that was an understatement. They could be happy and cheerful at one time, and then with a turn of the head, she'd be moody and screaming bloody hell. Weird.

Reaching for his wallet, he flicked it open and pulled out some bills. Placing it in the tray that was settled beside the vase full of roses, he spotted something black from out of the corner of his eyes.

Craning his neck for a better look, he smirked when he saw what it was.

It seemed that he had really nothing to worry about – because she'll definitely be back.

Little Ryuuzaki Sakuno had forgotten her purse.

* * *

Strolling down the empty streets, Fuji Syuske hummed himself a soft little tune, enjoying the warmth of the autumn sun bathing down on him. 

It was nice to back. Living in Florida for the past six years was an interesting experience, and though it was often filled with intriguing discoveries and exponential learning, the weather had been a major killer. He remembered the time when he had finished school, and was simply standing at the bus stop, waiting tirelessly for the public transportation to arrive. It had been a fine, cloudless day when out of the blue, it started to pour and lighting started to clash. The very next day had not been better either. Infamous for its hurricanes, Florida gave him just that – two hurricanes, one after another. It was only luck that it never spun his tiny one-room apartment away – it missed by a few meters.

Nevertheless, it was a beautiful place. Yet, Japan, dull compared to what he had seen, didn't lose its feeling of calm and serenity. There was a sense of home, probably due to Fuji's childhood being surrounded by this particular area, yet, he still found it tranquil. Nothing was quite like this.

Yes, Fuji was content to be back, even though it might only be for a few months or so.

The idea of meeting with the old Seigaku tennis members brought a smile to his lips. What would everyone look like now? Obviously, he had no problem depicting the image of Echizen Ryoma, as his pictures and advertisements were posted all across the billboards of Tokyo. That kid, he had come a long way. There was Tezuka, too. Although they had stayed in contact, often sending emails whenever they had the time, he had been at Yale law school, and both of them never had the chance to talk properly. Fuji reckoned he probably looked the same – one can never change too much.

Then, there was Kikumaru and Oishii. The golden pair was apparently off in London, working and making their name in the tennis world as the best doubles player in history. Inui became a scientist – no surprise there. Takamura had obviously taken over his father's sushi restaurant, and Momo and Kaidoh was…wait, who knew what those two rivals were up to?

Pondering in his thought, Fuji did not notice a small figure running his way, her heels clacking against the hard pavement. The crash was inevitable, really, and as soon as it happened, the figure collided with Fuji's body, the force of the impact pushing her backwards. The result was her sprawling on the ground, and him swaying to keep his balance.

Fuji, the ever helpful Fuji, reached down immediately and attempted to help the little girl up. But the girl seemed to have crashed harder than he thought, and was still dazed and rubbing her head.

"Are you okay, little girl?" he asked, concerned.

It took a minute for the girl to reply, before she glared up at him with her doe-brown eyes, and Fuji was taken aback at the anger he saw in those brown orbs.

"I am _not_ a little girl!" she said heatedly.

"So you're not," Fuji smiled kindly, and her anger immediately dissipated. Grabbing her arms gently, he helped her up and stumbling a bit, held her until she regained her balance. While she dusted herself off, Fuji took a close look at her. She seemed oddly familiar, with her pigtails and petite frame; anyone would've thought she'd be in her late teens. Yet, her features were that of a mature woman – high cheekbones, delicate nose, and a small but full lip. Her eyes were large against her petite visage, sending out a picture of cuteness and innocence.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked.

The girl looked up from her dusting, and cocked her head. It was rude to stare, yes, but under these circumstances, staring seemed to help one's memories to clear. A few moments passed before her eyes widened and a realization dawned.

"F-Fuji-senpai?"

"The one and only. And you are?"

"O-oh! I-I'm Ryuuzaki Sakuno!"

"Saa, Ryuuzaki Sumire's granddaughter." _And Echizen's little girlfriend_, added Fuji in his mind. No wonder she struck him as so recognizable. She was the shy cheerleader that was constantly following Echizen along, like a puppy to its owners.

"You changed a lot, Ryuuzaki, except for the pigtails," he commented.

"O-oh, well, the pigtails…are just me, you know? It's kind of hard to change the way I've always been," she fidgeted, "But, you haven't changed a bit, except that you've grown taller. You're still always smiling and your hair is still the same color, and you - -" Sakuno stopped when she noticed that she had been blabbering, and flushed, "I'm sorry."

Fuji gave a small chuckle, "It's no problem. Actually, I find it quite cute."

Sakuno only flushed more.

"Do you have time right now? There's a café down by the street."

She beamed up at him, "I'd love to. B-but I forgot to bring my purse…the only thing I have is my cell phone, and I can't very much use that to pay." Her face turned a deep shade of tomato.

"No problem, it's my treat," he gave her a wink. He would've wondered why she reacted the way she did, when she talked of her bag, but then again, it didn't concern him, and he was sure she'd be fine.

As they were about to set off, a ring tune came up, coming up of Sakuno's coat jacket. Glancing at the number, Sakuno gulped in nervousness and smiled an apology at him, picking up the phone.

"Hello?" she answered, her voice tense and anxious, "Yes, Sasabe-san?"

Sakuno frowned, her eyebrows creased in worry. Then her eyes widened at whatever the other end had stated, and hesitated before she replied, "…Yes, sir."

More gibberish on the other end.

"What condition?"

A look of annoyance struck her face, and she started shuffling her feet.

"B-but, Sasabe-san, Echi-" Sakuno paused and glanced at her companion, who was looking at her with a wide-open curiosity, "But he's not that great. Even without his signature, the company would still proper."

Again, she frowned, this time in anger.

"I'm sorry, but I won't do it."

"I know I'll get fired, but I don't care."

Whatever the person said on the other end must have scared her, because her eyes went dazed and she started trembling, as if she witnessed her death. Her face had gone stark white, her voice shaky as she replied.

"Yes, sir. I will, sir." And with that, she closed her phone, and put it back in her back.

For a moment, silence passed between them, and Sakuno was still staring off into space, her gaze settled on the gray ground.

"Bad times?" Fuji queried, snapping her out of her daze.

She smiled, though even fools could tell how forced it was. It didn't even reach her eyes, "No, it's nothing, really. Something just came up at work. I'm sorry, but I think I'll have to turn down the offer."

"No problem."

"I'm truly sorry, Fuji-san."

He shook his head, expressing that he had not taken anything into offense.

Then, with one last smile, this time genuine but melancholy, she turned and trotted away.

She was a sweet girl, Fuji came to conclude, an ugly duckling that had blossomed into a swan. Well, she was never ugly – just that her personality had made her invisible to the people she was surrounded by. She had shed her skin, from a little timid weanling with a low self-esteem, to a confident and mature woman.

Still, there was something amiss. Even with all her smiles and optimism, there was a sorrow evident in her eyes – haunted by past incidents.

It really was none of his business, but Fuji was curious. And when he was curious, he would always discover the reason until it ended.

Shrugging to himself, he walked on, down the empty streets.

* * *

Sakuno was more than angry. She was furious. How that impeccable, disgusting man came to this earth, she would never know. What right did he have to threaten her? He even went all the way to call her company, make her boss agree, and now, she had to do it. 

Stomping rather ungracefully back to the _Café du Coup de Foudre_, she slammed open the glass doors, and treaded heavily in. She brushed past the waiter without even a single look, leaving him to pause in mid sentence, and continued her trek down to table number eighteen.

He was still sitting there, his head resting on one of his arms, staring out at the small, wooden table. Many would've sighed at the picture he created, with the yellow sun bathing down at him, softening his sharp features. His eyes were a soft amber, and the beautiful background of the restaurant with a single rose accented his eye color. Many would call him 'heavenly.'

Sakuno only snorted in disgust and approached him like an angry elephant.

"You!" she growled, as Ryoma turned to look at her, "You are the most pathetic, contemptible, despicable person I've _ever_ met in my life!"

He only cocked an eyebrow at her, and was about to say something when she cut him off.

"No, I don't want to hear a word from you! I can't believe you'd go all the way to call my company, get me promoted, then threaten to get me fired if I don't agree with your terms, and bring Kage- I mean, bring my past into this!"

"What past?"

"None of your business!" she snapped, her eyes burning with rage. "I can't believe you!"

Ryoma gave a nonchalant shrug, "Whatever gets the job done."

Forcing herself to calm down and resisting the urge to knock him silly, she spat out, "Alright, Echizen! I'll be your fiancée for three months. Three months only! And no public events!"

Ryoma smirked, "Done."

With that, he stood up, stretched his tired muscles out and walked up to her. Leaning down, until they were face to face only a few inches apart, he whispered something to her, for ears alone.

With that, he strolled away and out of the restaurant, whistling and humming, leaving a fuming Sakuno standing there, glaring at the object placed on the table.

"_You're quite adorable when you're mad, Sakuno. Don't forget your purse."_

Sakuno snarled.

Bastard!

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, I met my deadline!! Finally, this chapter had been so long for me to type out, and I finally did it! I have this totally nasty habit of procrastinating, but I get my job done, y'know? Anyways, I want to say, thank you to all those people out there! I never knew I would get so much nice responses – I merely typed this story out of pure enjoyment. This isn't really my style of writing, but I like to experience with new things. So thank you a million tons! Mwa! 

Oh yes, I need a few beta-readers who have the talent to give me constructive criticisms and correct my poor grammar. Anyone interested???


	7. Unhappy?

**Chapter Seven: Unhappy?

* * *

**

"Ow! Watch where you're going, shorty!" Someone had rammed rather ungracefully unto his back. Ryoma raised an eyebrow. It was a known fact that he had been a bit vertically challenged at the age of twelve, but he was not twelve anymore, but a somewhat tall, five-foot-ten man. Although he was used to the constant teasing of his shortness (not like it was his fault to begin with), it didn't mean he had any more toleration of it now that he was more than a midget. There was still that touchy spot he never got rid of.

He turned around and was about to retort something impertinent at the man who had so rudely insulted his height, when he paused.The man was more than tall - not only was he broad and muscular (Ryoma could practically see his muscles bulging out from his white beater), he was a giant. Towering at six foot five, his dark black hair was gelled up into several sharp spikes that reminded him of icicles upside down; his visage was rugged and chunky, wearing an expression of the utmost annoyance. He struck Ryoma as a loud, rambunctious young lad that enjoyed riding motorcycles and fighting the government for pure entertainment. Not only that, his voice was whiny too.

"Ne," Ryoma said indifferently, straining his neck for a better look. "Why don't you watch where you're going, big foot?" He smirked – the guy hadn't changed one single bit. For some reason, he felt as if he had been transported back to the good old "o'chibi" days. It was an exquisite feeling, if that even made sense.

"Whaaat?" the man's expressions turned into one of confusion, bewildered that someone dared to retort back at his gigantic stature. He settled into a growl, his dark eyes proud and glaring. Ryoma only threw him one of his "I'm-better-than-you" smirks before sticking both hands into his khakis pockets, turning to leave. But even then, it was tough to contain the joy and anticipation that was thumping in his heart – never in his wildest dreams, would he have expected this sentimental emotion to surface.

"Why you cocky brat!" the stranger slammed his right fist into his left palm, then commenced to pulling his fingers. "I'll beat that haughty demure out of your butt!" _-crack- _"You got that?" Another _-crack- _"I'll show you what it means to respect your elders!"

Ryoma ignored him and kept strolling away. Mentally, he began to count down.

Red with anger, the man violently grabbed arms of the smaller man with his large palm, and swung him around until they were face-to-face. Not at all startled, Ryoma, who was in the midst of getting_ really_ exasperated, narrowed his eyes as if he was issuing a challenge of some sort.

_Three._

"Mada mada dane," Ryoma muttered to himself, before turning towards his apparent 'kidnapper,' unaware of the stranger's astonished face, "Let go before you end up in an asylum."

The stranger immediately loosened his hand.

_Two. _

"Hmmph!" was the only noise which was Ryoma's show of gratitude.

The stranger's thick eyebrows lowered, his eyes frowning, "Is that really you?" Without a reply, he abruptly gave a deep whoop of joy and a happy skip into the air, followed by a crushing blow into his arms. People walking shot them looks of disapproval.

_One._

"Echizen!"

Right on.

"You sly little brat! You haven't changed a bit!" Momoshiro roared. As soon as those words of exclamation came out, Ryoma found himself in a precarious position engulfed in his former senpai's arms, his knuckles twisting into his scalp. Once again, he felt like a puppy buried in the jaws of an adult boxer.

"Ow! Let go, Momo-senpai!"

"Oh, oops. Sorry!" Momoshiro exclaimed gleefully, bouncing up and down like a little kid, which was very unlike his steady and bad-tempered character. Ryoma significantly remembered that Momoshiro had wrinkled his nose in distaste at Horio's show of enthusiasm a few years back. Apparently, it was 'not cool,' as he had so eloquently quote it.

Hypocrite.

"Man! You've grown! Not a midget anymore, eh?"

Ryoma could only smirk, still struggling to control the thrilled emotion that was rushing through his blood stream.

"You should know."

Momoshiro scoffed. "Yeah, well, it's a much bigger difference when you see the actual person, rather than watching it on television."

"Hmm."

"You're still an arrogant brat though."

"You're still an idiot."

Silence.

"Hey! Did you just call me an idiot?"

"I'm not in the habit of repeating myself," Ryoma drawled.

He then awaited the mocking fist that would've supposedly land on the back of his head. But, amazingly enough, none came. Ryoma could only stare sideways at Momoshiro, as if he'd grown another head.

"What?" he exclaimed, responding to his companion's petulant stare.

Ryoma narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

There was something missing from Momoshiro – something strange, something deep. He also gained something, too. Ryoma knew he had seen it somewhere before, but he couldn't exactly place his mind on the whereabouts of Momoshiro's missing "things." Not, Ryoma contemplated, that he even knew what it was that was missing to begin with.

"Yo, Echizen!"

It definitely wasn't his loud voice, no. The decibels that he screeched out from his overly large mouth had been loud enough to wake the dead. Maybe it was his hair. Granted, it was shorter and less…spiky, but it was still there, as unkempt as the blue grasses he had seen when he toured Kentucky.

"Hellooooo?" Momoshiro yelled, leaning forward to gaze straight into Ryoma's amber eyes, which were not as dazed as Momoshiro had suspected, but was rather alert and well aware of the ongoing of their surroundings. It earned him a ball of knuckles straight into his nose.

"Ow! You moron! What the heck was that for?" Momoshiro bellowed deafeningly, pinching at the bridge of his nose which had unfortunately suffered some damage for no reason at all. Pedestrians shook their heads at him as they passed by, in which he replied with, "What are you staring at? Never seen a man before, have you?"

Well, at least he was still reactive.

"Now," he growled, swiveling his head towards the tennis star, who was still gazing at him in an annoyingly peculiar way. "What, the, hell, was that for?"

Ryoma gave a heartedly shrug. "Reflexes."

"Well, you got some damn good reflexes, I'll say!" he implied with a hint of sarcasm.

Again, Ryoma shrugged.

Abruptly, Momoshiro's eyes lightened, as if he had some sort of epiphany. "Hey, dude, what are you doing tonight?"

"Um…sleeping?"

He rolled his eyes, "No, I meant tonight as in during the evenings."

"I don't know. I'll just hack around and find something to do."

"Great!" Momoshiro gave him a big slap on the back. "Why don't you come with me to Horio's party tonight? It's hosted at his club not far away from where I live. They have great music and atmosphere."

"Horio's club?" Since when did Echizen Ryoma go to clubs? The last time he went, he had learnt a valuable lesson: never, never, never drink, talk, and dance, which was basically the whole point of going to clubs. Now that he had set himself the rule, there really was no reason to attend. "No," he replied hastily.

"Why not?"

"Because the last time I went," Ryoma commented rather nastily, "The bimbos there decided they would have fun spiking my drink."

Momoshiro grinned, "Let me guess. They assaulted you?"

Ryoma's indignant snort verified the statement.

His childhood friend gave a deep, long laugh whilst Ryoma shot him a glare. "Oh, damn," he slapped his knee, "Someone should've filmed it and sell it on eBay. I'd be the first one to buy it!"

"I'm glad you're taking so much pleasure in my…discomfort."

"Sorry. It's just that, you know, you getting assaulted by girls kind of leave an image of...Um, anyways, just to let you know," Momoshiro turned the topic as soon as he spotted the younger man's flicker of annoyance, "Not all women are bimbos."

"Yeah, but all bimbos are women."

Momoshiro paused to decipher the comment properly. "I suppose that's true, but then again, that would be saying that my wife is a bimbo."

Ryoma had to fight to control the shock welling in him. Wife? Since when did he have a wife?

"Wife?"

"Oh yeah, sorry," he grinned at him, rubbing his head sheepishly. "I got married a year ago. I tried to get to you, but you were playing in the Roland Garros, so I didn't want to interrupt your winning schedule. I mean, it's a few million bucks, right? But most of the old members were there. Even Tezuka came."

Ryoma felt cold. Once again, he was exposed to the distance between them, between him and Japan that had inadvertently grew during all these years. He had never forgotten about his friends, his train of thoughts constantly filled with those bittersweet times. And yet, he had not been there to witness the most important event of his friend's life.

Did everyone think that tennis was everything to him?

A realization dawned on him. He had figured out what was missing from his childhood friend. Immaturity. It was as if Momoshiro had been in a cocoon all his life, surrounded by warmth, food, and the occasional bickering of other cocoons. He wasn't the same person as Ryoma had last seen thirteen years ago. He was a grown man of a separate world.

"Congratulations," though it came out flat and tired.

The receiver did not notice it. Instead, he smiled cheerfully, "Why thank you, I'll introduce her to you later – actually, you both know each other. She'd be ecstatic to see her idol," he rolled his eyes at the thought. "So you coming to the party tonight? I mean, it is Horio. What could possibly be more amusing?"

Ryoma forced a grin. "Sure."

"Great, bring a girl or something." Then, Momoshiro grinned a sly grin, "Unless…you want me to introduce you to someone? Matchmaking's one of my favorite games. I excel at it."

"No!" Ryoma didn't want to know what kind of girl his companion would set up with him, considering his taste in women were always a bit on the awry side. "I already have a girlfriend."

"Eh?"

"In fact, I'll call her now."

A devious smirk broke from his lips.

* * *

"So, how 's life treating you?" Fuji asked quietly to the petite woman sitting across from him. Sakuno and he had agreed to meet up with each other at a rather small, secluded, but cozy café after the whole bizarre event about Sakuno's boss was over. They had just chatted randomly for over an hour when he decided to spring up the subject. 

"It's been…fair, I guess you would say," Sakuno shrugged. "You?"

"It's been great. I travel a lot these days, and its been relaxing. The reunion letter brought me back here."

"Oh yes," a smile graced Sakuno's lips, "I just saw Momo last week. He was literally jumping up and down, yelling about how he'll see everybody again."

"He hasn't changed a bit, eh?"

"Not in that way, no," her smile was now more of sorrow.

"But what about you?"

"What about me what?"

"How much have you changed?" Fuji asked, noting the flash of distress in her brown orbs. It immediately disappeared.

"Well, I think I improved on my clumsiness, don't you?" She beamed at him.

Fuji could tell the effort that it took her to put on her mask. "Yes," he answered gently, "You did. You're also much more confident."

"Why, thank you. It came with years of hard work and bravery." She nodded her pride, earning a dry, humorless chuckle from him.

"Saa. Now then, why is a woman such as yourself, with a well-paying job, a happy life (as you mentioned earlier), and a bright future ahead of you, be so plaintive?"

Sakuno's looked at him, startled. "Plaintive?" she giggled, "I think the traveling is

getting to you, Fuji-san. I'm perfectly happy of the way I am."

Fuji opened his eyes, his piercing blue orbs penetrating at Sakuno's doe-brown ones. "Are you, really?"

The question alarmed Sakuno even more. She sat up taller, tension building in her shoulders as she tried to hold Fuji's knowledgeable gaze.

"I am." Sakuno replied. When he did not respond, she insisted, "I _am_."

Both of them did not respond. Sakuno was afraid that the silence would swallow her. She abhorred silence.

Then, as if the conversation hadn't been spoken, Fuji closed his eyes again and smiled that cheerful smile of his.

Sakuno breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't know what Fuji was hinting at, but it left an unnerving feeling in her body. He couldn't have known since he had no connections with the old friends from Seigaku. Right?_ Right_?

Seeing her distraction, Fuji lightly changed the topic much to her liberation from the gruesome subject. "So, have you still been playing tennis?"

Sakuno grinned at him, her cheerful façade back on. "You bet! Obaa-chan finally got fed up with my talents – or lack thereof, that she enrolled me into a tennis academy. I mean, I still can't compare with you or any other people, but at least, I can hit the ball to where ever it's supposed to go, and not out of the fence."

"I see. Where is - " Fuji was cut off by the tone of the latest Juicy Fruit song.

'_Juicy Fruit, it's gonna move you!'_

Sakuno blushed apologetically as she sorted through her purse, trying to pursue the object that was the source of her embarrassement. "Sorry, it's Tomo-chan's fault. She thinks its some sort of funny joke and always changes my ring tone."

"Hello?" she answered, and then immediately regretted it. Unconsciously, she whacked herself on the forehead for not looking at her caller identification first. What a stupid thing to do! "What?"

"Is that the way to speak to your fiancé?" the cocky, arrogant voice sounded from the other end. Only the curious glances from Fuji refrained Sakuno from hanging up.

"I'm kind of busy right now, so can I just call back later?" she grumbled grouchily.

"No. It'll take two minutes." She heard a snicker on the other end that wasn't very Ryoma-like. Probably some dumb jock friend's of his.

"Shoot then!"

"I'm picking you up at eight at your house. Dress um…casually, like a skirt and a t-shirt."

Sakuno huffed angrily, "Hey! You think you can just tell me what to do without my permission and without giving me information? Who do you think you are?"

"I'm your fiancé, and I'm your ticket to promotion," Ryoma countered cleverly.

"Well – well - " the nerve of him! " Well, I can't. I have to go somewhere. You know, I have a life of my own!"

"I'm well aware. Let me guess, you're going to Horio's party?" It was more of a statement than a question. Sakuno's shocked silence confirmed his question.

"I'll take that as a yes. So I'll pick you up at eight." With that he hanged up.

"Oooooh! The insufferable jerk!" Sakuno muttered angrily under her breath, her face red with fury. "How dare he – urgh! Stupid, retarded, jerk!"

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "Boyfriend?"

Sakuno shook her head in frenzy. "No! No! _No_! I would never _ever_ go out with a jerk like him! _Ever_!"

He smiled amusingly.

Then, as if by some magic, Sakuno's reddened visage suddenly lightened up, her eyes bright and full of scheming ideas.

"Ne, Fuji-san, are you busy tonight?"

"No…"

"You remember Horio-kun?"

"Horio? The froggy cheerleader?"

"Um…sure. You see, he's having a party tonight, and…"

Sakuno's smile widened.

* * *

**A/N:** Woot! I made it in time! I'm sorry I didn't get it beta-read because I wanted to get this chapter up before Christmas! You know, as a Christmas present to everyone who enjoys this fic! I'm amazed at how much people like this story. I just did it on a whim, and I'm completely not serious about it, since I have something more interesting on mind – say, a new story? Anyways, thanks to those patient people out there! I hope you enjoy it! 

By the way, I made some mistakes in the last chapter, and I re-posted it. To **keikeiaznqueen**, I know the esophagus is where the food goes down. It's when the food goes down into the trachea that makes you choke because it got into the wrong way. Thanks though!

Thanks to everyone who applied to be my beta-reader! I'm touched! But there's so much so I had to narrow it. With my brilliant ingenuity (ahem) I decided to make a draw, and my new following three beta-readers are:** Inkblots, Chibi-Kari, and Lily-the-Fox**. Please leave me a message if the three of you are still interested!

Again, my next update will be sometime in January! Woot! Now I'm off to Paris!


	8. Party Poopers

**Chapter Eight: Party Poopers**

"Fuji-senpai," Ryoma greeted coldly, though his face betrayed nothing more than a courteous and respectful expression. He was standing in front of the door that led to Sakuno's little apartment, his hands tucked neatly in his pockets. When he rang the door bell, his good mood had evaporated instantly when he realized who was standing in front of him – not Sakuno like he had expected, but someone who he had rather not see right at the moment.

"Ahh, Echizen. It's been a long time, hasn't it?" The same smile from years before greeted him.

"Too long," Ryoma bit out sarcastically. It wasn't as if he was not happy to see his former senpai and long time friend. In fact, quite the opposite, he was elated. It was just that Fuji appeared so – _so_ abruptly, and it was known that Ryoma did not like to be surprised. Not only that, the thought that a man – Fuji, no less – was in the house of a woman was rather disturbing. And it wasn't just any woman, but Sakuno's – _his_ fiancée.

Well, okay, maybe not his real fiancée, but Fuji didn't really need to know that.

"Congratulations on your latest win in the Master's Series."

"Thank you."

Silence.

"Sakuno-chan told me about Horio's party and invited me," he commented, breaking the tension. "She's getting ready, and should be coming out any minute now."

"Great."

More Silence.

Ryoma silently observed that the man right in front of him was smiling way too cheerfully for his likings. Unlike the people he had recently met, Fuji did not change one bit. He still had the despicable smile etched across his fine countenance; his auburn hair was still up to his shoulders. The slenderness of his frame hadn't altered in these past few tennis-less years, and the aura surrounding him was still a combination of serene and potency.

Yes, no changes at all for Fuji. Except, Ryoma had the snagging suspicion that his childhood friend and rival was more deadly than ever – and in more ways than one.

"Sorry about the wait!" Sakuno exclaimed as she ran towards the door where the two men were waiting. She dumped her purse on the ground as she hurriedly slipped into her party shoes. "I couldn't find my keys."

"Its fine," Fuji smiled down at her, in which Ryoma shot him a glare.

"It's not fine. How old are you, Sakuno? Twenty-two? Shouldn't you be more responsible?"

Sakuno, who was bent down low and trying strenuously to squeeze her feet into her Jimmy Choo's, snapped up in annoyance at the rebuking tone of Ryoma's voice.

"Excuse me, _father_, I didn't ask for your opinion, did I? And since you practically forced me to-" She halted in the middle of her indignant speech.

For the umpteenth time, Sakuno reluctantly admitted to her hesitant conscious that the _People's Magazine_ was right about enlisting Echizen Ryoma as one of the most beautiful people in the world – simply because he was. Under the light, set against the backdrop of the night, he was flawless. He had on a plain beige khaki, and a trouble-free dress shirt that was unadorned, but undeniably elegant. Sakuno couldn't help but be envious of him. He would look good in anything.

Only when Ryoma raised the question, "And since I?" did Sakuno snap out of her little pondering.

"And since nothing!" she growled. "I'm done! Let's go or we'll be late."

"And I wonder who's fault that'll be," muttered Ryoma under his breath.

Fuji, who was watching the whole scene with extreme interest, stepped forward to open the door of the Lexus for Sakuno as soon as they reached Ryoma's car.

She beamed.

"Well," she said quite innocently, "Someone here is actually a gentleman. It's actually quite funny, because I always thought that they were extinct. It seems that I was proven wrong."

Ryoma snorted, faking a look of boredom. "You're always wrong."

"I am not _always_ wrong."

"No. Sorry, I meant ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent of the time. That number also accounts for your lateness."

"Oh, you insufferable prick! So what if I'm late of wrong? I was talking of gentlemen, and trust me to be right when I say this: you are not one."

"I don't _want_ to be one."

"Well, your loss then."

"Loss of what? _You_?"

Sakuno flushed, "No! I meant – I meant – never mind! All I ever wanted to say was that gentlemen like Fuji are rare, okay?"

"No, there are quite a lot of them around, actually," Ryoma replied dismissively as he started the car. "They're just rare since most women act look like a crow and squeal like a pig. It's highly unattractive, you see."

"I-I do not squeal like a pig!" Sakuno exclaimed heatedly.

Ryoma snickered, "I didn't say you do. But you know the quote, 'those who deny are those who do.'"

Her face beat red, Sakuno stuck out her tongue childishly, earning a chuckle from Fuji.

* * *

Music blared over the speakers as Ryoma entered, while people on the dance floor danced with a feverish sway to the heavy rhythmic beat and the pounding of drums. The lights were dim but colorful, and the contemporary design of shapes, paintings, and patterns visible on the wall made it look more like a sophisticated pub than a teenage club. 

Ryoma admitted to himself that even though Horio had an insufferable personality and an even more insufferable mouth, he had a good taste in superior architecture.

"Oi, Echizen!" Momoshiro bellowed at the opposite end of the dance floor, waving frantically at the tennis star. He was seated on one of the high, black stools that were set in front of the bar.

"Momo-senpai," Ryoma acknowledged him as he squeezed through the throng of hormone-driven teens. His eyes, which were fixed on his friend, trailed down to a petite redhead right by Momoshiro's side. She was a dainty thing; shoulder-length hair, with honey-red eyes that was highlighted by her sharp cheekbones and aquiline nose, she smiled at him in a manner which gave Ryoma the impression that she was extremely autocratic.

Pretty, Ryoma mused, but no where as pretty as Sakuno.

"Ah, Echizen, you know her," Momoshiro said, scratching his head sheepishly, "This is Ann-chan – well, the sister of Tachibana to be exact. And my wife." He announced proudly, before briefly pausing. "Do you even remember who Tachibana is?"

"Hmm." A reply which Momoshiro assumed to be a "no."

"Hello, Echizen-kun." Ann greeted him primly.

Ryoma nodded in reply. Truthfully, he didn't really care who she was – it was only the fact that she was the wife of his best friend that forced him to acknowledge her existence. In his opinion, this Ann girl was too sharp and too intelligent, which was defined in Ryoma's dictionary as trouble and eventually, divorce.

"So this is the wife you were talking about," he was facing Momoshiro now. "The bimbo one, ne?"

Silence ensued for a mere few seconds before Ann's face twisted in an unpleasant scowl. Grabbing a teaspoon that was set on the table, she attempted to whack her flailing husband.

"You pathetic retard!" she hissed, "Who did you call a bimbo? Bimbo my face!"

"Echizen!" her husband cried, as he tried failingly to dodge her wife's fearful attacks. "Ow!"

Ryoma shrugged.

"One day, you're going to be married, and you're going to regret ever doing this to me!"

"In my grave," was all he replied before plopping down in one of he seats.

Momoshiro blinked at him, "What, you like bachelor hood too much to settle down?"

"Yup."

"Man, two to three years from now, you'll be hearing me say, 'I-told-you-so.' Ow!"

"Ne, where's Horio and the others?"

Three figures emerged from behind the counter, "Oi! Echizen!"

That unbearable voice…Speak of the devil!

"Ah, you've grown!" Horio cried, excited.

"Ryoma-kun!" Katsuo and Kachiro cried in unison, and threw themselves across the counter to engulf a startled Ryoma into a hug. Horio was behind them, waving and yelling hysterically, "Me too, me too!" while the Momoshiro and Ann laughed.

Then, before Ryoma could interrupt them, they started chattering excitedly away about himself – his latest matches, his clothes, and…just about everything else. It was all for the better, since Ryoma wasn't really a talker anyways.

"Ryoma-sama!" Someone squealed from behind, and he, for he third time in a day, was engulfed in a hug. A _hug_, for god sake. What was he, a grade one student? Ryoma couldn't help but feel like that he some commercialized teddy bear. Maybe he should charge everyone who wanted to hug him a couple of dollars. If he actually did that, he probably could live the rest of his days happily without ever laying a hand on his tennis racket.

"You're better looking than you are on television!" Tomoka squealed excitedly, bouncing up and down. She, like Sakuno, had abandoned her two pigtails, and opted for a waist-length hair. Although her looks had matured, her personality was still frightfully the same – aggravating, aggravating, and well, just plain aggravating.

Not that Ryoma could remember who she was, or really cared, for that matter. All he thought of her was that she was aggravating.

"So, Echizen, my old man," Momoshiro grinned, plunking his elbow onto the table as Horio dished out some weird-looking liquid. "What's it like to be number one?"

* * *

"My, my, my," a high-pitched sneer rang from behind. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Sakuno, who was in the midst of drinking her punch, closed her eyes for a few moments before turning around. A beautiful woman stood before, decked out in a lavish halter top and a striking miniskirt. Her cerulean blue eyes framed by her pale blond hair, she had the features of a classic beauty and the body of a swimsuit model.

"Try to be more original, won't you?" she replied dryly, "Look, Amaya, I suggest you go away because I'm really, really, and I mean _really_, not in the mood to deal with you and your stupid mouth today."

"Oh, someone's in a bad mood."

In her presence, Sakuno always felt as if she was a lowly scum that belonged on the streets. At least, she comforted herself, Amaya's personality was hideous, whereas her's was a tad bit better – or she hoped.

Sakuno rolled her eyes. "Well, someone's observant."

"What, your boyfriend dumped you already?"

"What boyfriend?"

"Don't act dumb. The one with the black hair and auburn eyes. Have I met him before? He looks awfully famaliar."

"Um…How am I supposed to know if you met him or not?" Sakuno retorted, though she secretly prayed that Amaya would be brainless enough to not recognize who he was. Though that, in itself, was kind of hard. The devious woman was anything but brainless. "He is _not_ my boyfriend. We are friends. Period. End of Discussion." With that, she stuck her nose up and attempted to walk off in as good a fashion as possible.

Amaya tossed her hair and rested her hands on her hips. "You know, you're not a very good liar. What are you trying to hide from? You didn't tell him, did you?"

At the words, Sakuno froze, her glass cup clenched tightly in her palm.

"Excuse me?" she managed to whisper.

Amaya scoffed. "Please, you heard what I said. Don't try to deny it, Ryuuzaki. Everybody knows about your relationship and your scandal. I'm actually quite surprised you had the nerve to show up here - with a man, nevertheless."

"You. don't. know. anything!" hissed Sakuno. "Nothing at all!"

"Come on, Ryuuzaki. We all know that you aren't the innocent little girl everybody makes you out to be. Why, you hanged on to Kagerou twenty-four seven, throwing yourself freely around him. If you weren't a - "

"Shut up!" Tomoka shouted, stalking angrily and placing herself between Sakuno and Amaya.

By now, Sakuno's frame was trembling.

"Oh, great, here comes the drama queen," Amaya rolled her eyes, "You know it's true. All that came from her mouth at that time was 'Oh, he bought a rose for me the other day,' or 'he's so sweet, he took me out to the nicest restaurant.' Blah, blah, blah." She shook her head in disgust. "And he had a wife too. If she isn't a whore, I don't know who is."

"Um…maybe you are?" Tomoka spat back. "Sakuno never knew he had a wife! Right, Sakuno-chan?" A gasp. "Sakuno! Your hand!"

Red liquid slid down from Sakuno's pale hands, dripping slowly as it trailed down her fingertips. Pieces of glass shards were embedded in her flesh while what remained of the cup was lying on the ground, surrounded by what used to be her drink.

The world seemed to stop moving as the customers' fixed their gaze upon the brunette. Their attention was solely on her, yet she didn't utter a sound or wince in pain – the only place she had an interest in was the polka-dotted floor.

"Saku-chan!" Tomoka shook her friend's shoulder, her anxiety portrayed plainly on her face. "Are you okay? Hey! Talk!"

"Sakuno-chan…" Ann voiced softly, as she and the rest of the gang stared from afar. There was no doubt that they wanted to go to Sakuno's aid, but it wasn't their business. Anyhow, what could they do? If even her best friend couldn't snap her out of her paralyzed state, who's to say that they could?

Amaya remained passive, but even she couldn't hide the concerned look that shown through her blue eyes.

While everyone's attention was drifted towards the woman, nobody noticed the tall figure of Ryoma strolling casually across the dance floor. His right hand was tucked comfortably in his pocket, while the other was occupied with a colorful cocktail that Horio had specially mixed for him.

He stopped right behind Amaya, and with a sadistic smirk, dumped all the contents right onto her mass of golden hair. His reward was satisfying: an ear-piercing shriek and a few strings of mild curses. He also quite liked the jaw-dropping, eye-popping looks that he received. Certainly, it was a much milder reaction than if he had won a grand slam, but still. It added a nice effect to the whole atmosphere.

Amaya swirled around to face her attacker, her face scrunched with fury and mouth open to howl. As soon as she realized who it was, she forcefully clamped her mouth shut, calmed herself and conjured up a cool glare.

"_What_, exactly, was that for?" she said, her voice dripping with poison.

"Oops…A slip of the hand?" Ryoma blinked innocently before continuing, his voice smooth as silk, "Now, woman-"

"The name's Kirisaki Amaya!"

"Whatever. Now, Karasaka, I don't have a problem with you harassing innocent bystanders – it's a free country. But I do have a problem if you talk too much – your voice is too screechy, and my ears hurt. So, if you would please live up to your image and go bother someone else, far away from _my_ ears, I'd really appreciate it."

Amaya, who was racking for something clever to snap back, spotted Fuji leaning by a table, not too far off from Sakuno. Unnoticed by anyone else, he had his blue eyes open, and was now looking harshly at her, as if warning her of some perious deed. She pursed her lips, and with one last glare at Ryoma, turned and stalked off.

The tennis star walked towards Sakuno, shrugged off his jacket and covered her trembling frame.

"I'll drop her home," was all he said before he grabbed her hands, leaving the whole room gaping at what just occurred.

Their eyes never left the two figures as they watched the cold, cat-eyed man dragging a vulnerable, petite brunette out of the club, into the dark abyss.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, first of all, I'm sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry for the late update! Paris and all...Thanks a bunch, you guys, for motivating me! Your support really, really helped a lot. This was an especially hard chapter to get out, and thanks to Lily, her suggestion and amazing editing produced a great result!!! 


	9. One Step Forward

**Chapter Nine: One Step Forward

* * *

**

Sakuno stared dazedly at the lights of houses and cars rolling by, her gaze blank and unfocused. The only sound that reverberated from her was her deep, even breathing against the hum of the sedan's engine. Her bleeding hand was tightly clamped with a wedge of tissue to hopelessly stop the flow of blood.

Ryoma shot her a fleeting look before returning his gaze to the steering wheel.

"I'll drive you to the hospital," he commented quietly.

It was a second or two before Sakuno responded.

"I'm fine," she said meekly, still gazing out the window. "It's only a minor cut."

"No. There's probably some glass embedded in it."

She finally turned her head and stared at Ryoma, her gaze sharp and slightly irritated.

"I said I'm fine."

Ryoma gave her a hard, sidelong glance. "It isn't up to you to decide."

The only response from Sakuno was the slight twitch of her hand before she turned her head back towards the window, letting the car fill with awkward silence once again.

The tennis star could only ponder, what exactly had changed the once head-shy girl into one that was so…stubborn and distant? She used to flush as red as a tomato at the very sight of him, often stumbling at her words and tripping over her own feet. Now, she was one that would look at him, and instead of her usual glance-and-blush ritual, she would stare straight at him and _challenge_ him. It wasn't as if he didn't like her new attitude – in fact, it was pleasantly refreshing, but it would still be nice to have her retain some of her old personality.

Tonight, he had a glimpse of that – her vulnerable state.

Amaya was the one who brought it out of her, but it wasn't her catty persona, but rather, the information that she leaked out that did the job.

_Kagemoura…_

Oh yes, the one big name that crumbled Sakuno's well-built exterior. And exactly, who _was_ he? Some kind of mafia gang that threatened her? Robbed her of her money?

Ryoma highly doubted the former idea, and the latter seemed too trivial for Sakuno to react so impressively. He opted for the third idea. Perhaps, by some amazing miracle, they were lovers, and he had ditched her for some pretty Cambodian model? Amaya did mention something about whores and wives.

Ryoma almost rolled his eyes. Since when had he become an author of romance novels? This was probably the result of hanging around Nanako and her Nora Robert books too much.

"Who is Kagemoura?" he asked suddenly, finally decided to abandon all thoughts of lovers and models. It was insensitive, but straight to the point.

Sakuno's head swiveled to face him, her honey-brown orbs blazing with fury.

"None of your business," she bit out.

Right. That was very straight to the point, too.

"It would be my business since I am the one taking you to the hospital."

"I didn't ask to go to the hospital, did I?"

"No, but unless you want to die from infection, then I suggest you stop arguing and start telling."

"Like I said, Echizen, none, of, your, business!"

Ryoma sighed.

"You know, I could always get the information from someone else?"

"Okay, if you must know, he was a good-for-nothing bastard. Happy?"

"Very. Anything else you like to add?"

"Yes. And _you_ are exactly like him."

"How lovely."

"Indeed," she retorted, before staring back out of the window. With a start, she realized that they had pulled to a stop in a vast parking area. A plain, white building laid in sight a few steps away.

Ryoma was already out and holding the door for her.

"Welcome to…" he paused as his amber eyes scanned across the large brass plates nailed sturdily against the brick walls of the large edifice, " the _Tokyo Memorial Hospital_."

"Charming," Sakuno replied dryly as she got out of the car, ignoring Ryoma's trademark smirk.

* * *

"Oh deary me!" cried the old man, as he squinted through his spectacles underneath the blinding light. His gloved hands were holding onto a pair of tweezers, pricking gingerly at the soft, bloodied flesh of Sakuno's palm. "What have you done to yourself, darling?"

Sakuno winced as the doctor pulled out another piece of glass. "I kind of – ow – broke a cocktail glass."

"That must have been _some_ cocktail glass. I hope you didn't drive here yourself."

"No, no! I had – ow – a…very… admirable companion."

Although where her "very admirable companion" had gone to was a mystery. As soon as Ryoma had accompanied her to the emergency room, he had said he needed to get something "mandatory" and left her with this disgustingly cheerful doctor. Very admirable indeed!

As soon as she finished her string of thoughts, a knock came from the door and there emerged the tennis player, looking as annoyingly handsome as ever. In his hands, he was bearing a tray of three hot, steaming coffees. Greeting the two of them, he settled one of the cups onto an office table.

The graying doctor looked at him and burst out, "Oh, he must be the very admirable companion that you were talking about!"

Ryoma could only raise an amused eyebrow while Sakuno mentally wished to bang her head against the concrete wall.

"Thank you," Sakuno muttered, her face hot with embarrassement.

He only smirked.

The doctor, who was now wrapping his embarrassed patient's hands, beamed up at him.

"You have a lovely wife, mister!"

Sakuno gaped in surprise before she interrupted him. "We-we're not married! We're only-"

"Engaged." A nonplussed Ryoma, who was sitting rather comfortably in a leather chair, added in smoothly.

"How wonderful! Congratulations!"

"Thank you."

"Why, you know, marriage is one of the biggest part of life? How amazing that one little emotion called love could bind such two pretty couples together! Why, you see, I studied a bit of psychology in university, and I'll tell you, just by looking at you two, you guys will probably be together until death do one of you apart."

The tennis player's eyes was full of hilarity. "Why, thank you, doctor."

"No problemo!" he turned back to Sakuno. "Now, young lady, no stressing your hand for at least a week. Reapply the dressing once a day after a bath or shower, and don't carry bags or play any sports, you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

"One more thing, you've got a gallant, extremely handsome man in your grasp. Take advantage!" he winked at her.

Sakuno remained silent, her face red and fuming.

As they left the office, she vaguely wondered how Ryoma could get into the emergency room so easily without having to confirm his identification and ask for permission. When she spotted a smitten nurse and a fawning secretary outside, she knew.

"Why did I even bother?" muttered Sakuno underneath her breath.

* * *

Sakuno turned on her kitchen light, dumped her purse onto one of the checkered sofas, and slumped down upon it.

_Ahhhh, heaven!_

Ryoma had been more than unbearable during the return trip, often commenting on her clumsiness, her stupidity, and whatnot. The comments were relatively short and to the point (with some truth, too), but still! That was not a good way to treat his own fiancée, fake or not.

Her phone rang.

Groaning, she stumbled over to her coffee table and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Sakunoooooooo!" Came a screeching voice from the other end.

She winced. "Tomo-chan."

"Are you okay? Is your hand okay? Did Ryoma take good care of you? If he didn't, I'll castrate him and hang him, and believe me, I'll see to it myself!"

"Um…that's alright, Tomo-chan. It was fine. He took me to the hospital and drove me home. That's about it."

"Oh." Tomoka answered, her tone full of disappointment as if she expected something more interesting. "Did he…I don't know, do anything?"

Sakuno narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean by _do anything_? He bought me coffee, if that's what you mean."

Tomoka laughed awkwardly, "Nothing, nothing! That's great! He bought you coffee, did he?" Without waiting for a reply, she continued, "You know, he seems very...how do you put it….different, I guess, with you."

"Different?"

"You know, he's so ignorant and distant when he's with other people, but with you, his much more attentive. Not that I'm saying he talks a lot more – in fact, he doesn't – but still, I can see there's something different."

"Different," Sakuno rolled the word in her tongue. She rolled her eyes and replied in a dry tone, "Yes, he's much more argumentative and much more cockier with me."

Tomoka snorted on the other end, "You know what I mean. Now, remember our little promise that we wouldn't keep anything from each other?"

"Yes…?"

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well, there's something you're keeping away from me! You may have improved on controlling your emotions all these years, Sak-chan, but I _know_ you. You are as easy to read as an open book!"

Sakuno wasn't sure if she was supposed to be offended or not. But knowing her best friend's determination, she knew there was little chance of avoiding the truth.

She sighed. "I'm playing his fiancée for three months."

"Oh, that's okay, I – you _WHAT_?" Tomoka screamed out on the phone. "Are you out of your mind? Playing fiancée to the prince of tennis? You have_ got _to be joking, because seriously, this is _not_ funny!"

"I don't joke about stupid stuff like this…" Sakuno rubbed her temples and launched a short and brief explanation, often pausing to let her friend finish her screaming and panicking attacks.

"So there," she said, "Three months of acting, and I get a promotion. God knows I need it."

There was silence over on the other end.

"Um…Tomo-chan?"

"Are you sure that's it? It seems rather weird of you to agree so quickly."

Sakuno stiffened. "Yes, that's it."

"Hmmm…alright. But do you want to know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think it's rather sweet," Tomoka smiled in reply.

"Sweet my butt!"

"Now, now, watch your mouth!!" her friend laughed. Her tone then grew serious."But be careful, Sakuno. He may be cool and aloof, but he _is_ a man. Don't push him too hard."

* * *

"Fifteen-love," commented Fuji, as he bent over to pick up a rolling tennis ball. He looked towards his playing partner on the other side. "Not bad, Sakuno-chan. You've improved quite a lot."

Sakuno, who was panting and sweating after half-an-hour of the game, shot him a triumphant look. "Why, thank you." Even though he was still beating her five-to-two, it was still a major improvement.

Fuji had unexpectantly called her just last night, right after she hanged up on Tomoka, asking for a game of tennis. Sakuno, with her hands feeling perfectly fine, decided to agree. Who in the right mind would decline _the_ Syuuske Fuji, anyway?

"Good footwork, great timing, and a very strong forehand. Who trained you?"

"My grandmother," she answered proudly. "After you guys all graduated from Seigaku High, she decided to retire – she was getting old anyways. Of course, she had much more time on her hands, and used that to teach me."

Fuji's face softened at hearing about his former coach. "How is she doing these days?"

"Great! She's having the time of her life traveling around the world and watching tournaments."

"Is she here in Tokyo?"

Sakuno gave him a quizzical look, "Yes."

"Saa. I was just wondering if I could pop by for a visit. It has been a rather long time."

Sakuno's face brightened. "Of course! She would love to see you! I think she got so sick of seeing Ryoma in the winner's circle that she stopped going to the tournaments. I heard she was muttering something that sounded awfully like, 'Darned cocky brat, someone beat him up.'"

Fuji chuckled. "You and Echizen seemed to be pretty close."

"Close?" Sakuno flushed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you guys call each other by your first names, and yesterday was a certain proof of that."

"We're just friends!"

"Just friends?"

Sakuno nodded frantically, and was startled with Fuji's cerulean blue eyes opened. He leaned forward until he was eye-to-eye with her, his breath breathing onto her face.

"So, he wouldn't get mad if I took you out for dinner would he?"

Sakuno turned a pretty shade of red. "N-no. W-why would h-he?"

Fuji's eyes than popped back to its original state and a brilliant smile formed on his angelic face.

"Great, I'll pick you up at seven."

* * *

Ryoma smacked the fuzzy green ball as hard as he could, trying to let out his frustration.

_-pok-_

Why he was frustrated, he didn't even know. So what if he spotted Sakuno and Fuji playing tennis?

_-pok-_

It _was_ just tennis, after all – harmless bit of fun.

_-pok-_

Not that you can call playing tennis with a girl who had zero-coordination fun.

_-pok-_

So he had absolutely, completely no reason to feel frustrated, right?

_-pok-_

Still, there was this nagging feeling his mind that they were playing more than just tennis.

_-pok-_

But he didn't care. She was just his fiancée for three months.

_-pok-_

But why won't his mind shut up? The image of Fuji leaning so close to Sakuno…it was _pissing _as hell.

_-pok-_

"_I know people like you. You think you can handle everything in the world yourself," _Ryoma had said to her yesterday before she got off of her car.

"_You don't understand a single thing about me, Echizen! Not one single bit!" _She yelled at him before slamming his already groaning car door.

_-pok-_

But he did understand. She was those girls who pretended they were outwardly strong and capable, but inside, they were vulnerable to everyone and everything.

_-pok-_

So again, who was Kagemoura?

Ryoma stood up straight and caught the bouncing ball before it flew past him. Contemplating deeply, he placed his racket back into his bag, before ambling off towards the parking lot.

Who would have been with Sakuno long enough to know her mysteries? And who had enough of a big mouth to spill it out?

Ryoma smirked then.

_Horio.

* * *

_

**A/N: **Done and on time! For those who worry that I'll start updating slower, don't!! This story is my _first _and_ foremost _priority, even though I've uploaded a new one. My goal is to finish this, no matter what!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed this!!


	10. Festival Fun

**Chapter Ten: Festival Fun**

"Hya, Uncle Horio! Can you do the twist serve like Echizen Ryoma?"

"Of course! I, with my twelve years of tennis experience, can do practically anything!"

"Show us, show us!"

"Yes, show us, show us, Uncle Horio!"

Ryoma blinked nonchalantly at the scene before him. Two little children around the age of six, one girl and one boy, hopped around their uncle in enthusiasm, waving their rackets dangerously in air.

"Alright, alright!" Horio said, shooing away the kids like they were annoying fruit flies. "Stay to that side of the court! Both of you!"

When his nephew and niece were settled happily by the courtside, and both of them watching him expectantly, he tossed the ball in the air and hit it with an impressive follow-through.

The girl, Sayoko, clapped in delight. Ryoma only snorted.

Looking extremely proud of himself, Horio gave the kids a look. Much to his dismay, he found that his nephew was looking rather bored and unimpressed.

"That was _not_ the twist serve!" he frowned. "That was a _slice _serve!"

The girl gasped, her hands flew to her mouth dramatically. "Uncle Horio was trying to cheat us! Uncle Horio tried to cheat us!"

Ryoma was awed that such a little girl could have a voice that loud. Bystanders and players from other courts nearby shot Horio nasty looks as he scratched his head sheepishly. Attempting to shush them, Horio offered to show them a special move.

"What move?" Kantou looked at him skeptically.

Still unaware of Ryoma's presence, he whispered something. Their eyes, especially the ones of the girl, widened to such an extent that Ryoma couldn't help but think of dead fishes without eyelids.

"_Boomerang snake_?!" Kantou cried out. "But that's Uncle Kaidoh's special move!"

"Oooooh! Uncle Horio is a copy-cat!"

"What? N-no, I'm not! I'm just showing you-"

"Copy-cat, copy-cat, copy-cat!" the two kids sneered as they twirled around a flustered Horio.

The watching tennis star decided that it was high time to make his presence known.

Unaware that his niece and nephew had gone silent, Horio was still busy convincing to himself that it was certainly not _his_ fault that the twist serve had failed. It was totally the strings fault. That's right. He decided to try out the new poly-filamented strings that were imported yesterday, and what better way to try it out then by doing a professional serve?

"And I'm _not_ a copy-cat!" he muttered, "I have my own moves too. It's just _better_ to learn other people's move so that you'll have an advantage when you're playing games; you hear that, Kantou, Sayoko? Of course I have my own moves too! Twelve years of tennis experience and – _yeow_!"

"Echizen! W-What was that for?!" Horio cried, rubbing his head where the tennis ball had hit.

Ryoma, who had Sayoko's junior racket in one hand and a tennis ball in the other, smirked.

"Seriously, that _hurt_!"

"Sorry." Ryoma said in a tone that expressed just how un-sorry he was. "I want to ask you something."

Horio's eyes widened and twinkled in triumph. He crossed his arms and titled his head in the air, cackling. "Ah! The great Echizen coming to me for advice. That doesn't happen everyday. Why, my twelve years of tennis experience must have contributed to the whole thing. I might even be better than you! Of course—"

"Ne, ne!" Kantou interrupted, his brown eyes gazing at Ryoma's bored visage with interest. "Are you_ the_ Echizen Ryoma?"

Ryoma looked down at him before replying nonplussed, "Hnn."

"Wow! You're much cooler than I thought!"

"Yeah! Much better looking than Uncle Horio!" Sayoko chattered excitedly, ignoring Horio's gawping protests.

"Can you show as the twist serve? Please, please, pretty please? With a cherry on top?"

"Uncle Horio always says he can do it…but it never seems right. It's just not as cool as when _you_ do it on T.V."

Sayoko gave him a look before whispering loudly, "I'll tell you a secret if you promise you won't tell." But before Ryoma could answer, she continued, "He says that you play really, really well, but not_ that_ good as everyone says you are. But he's just jealous, I think! Kantou and I saw him in the showers…he was trying to imitate you with all the twist serve moves and Drive B! Once, he slipped and hit his head, and the first thing he said was 'mada mada dane!' And you know what? He always sings the Little Mermaid Song!"

Ryoma's smirked widened as Horio blushed furiously, trying to miserably deny the fact.

"And then, once, he was waving his underwear around, pretending it to be a racquet—"

"Sayoko, you'll be late for your piano lessons! Shoo, before your mother hunts you down!" Much to Horio's relief, Sayoko and Kantou did leave reluctantly, only after Ryoma performed a slow twist serve with her racket.

"So," Horio said, pretending that his escapades had never been told. "The great Echizen wants to talk to me, eh? Finally noticed my skills and asking me for advice."

Looking thoroughly amused with his concept, Horio glanced at Ryoma to find him looking unpleasantly uninterested.

"Do you know Kagemoura?"

Horio spat out the water he was drinking.

"_Who_?"

Ryoma glanced at him, his face still uninterested. "Kagemoura."

"No."

Although it was a fast and straightforward reply, there was a hint of caution and wariness that didn't escape Ryoma.

"What did he do to Ryuuzaki?"

Horio gave him a guarded look before replying, "He didn't do anything."

"Hnnn…who is he?"

"I don't know him."

"Then how did you know that he didn't do anything?"

"W-well, it's _because_ I don't know him so that I know he um…didn't do anything."

"Mada mada dane."

"H-Hey!" Horio protested, waving his towel in air. "It's not my business to tell you who he is and what he did."

"So you do know who he is."

"W-What? Did I say that? No! Y-You assume too much!"

"Che."

"Alright, fine, fine!" Horio sighed, plopping onto a nearby bench, his towel hanging across his neck. "Kagemoura's a really, really, and I mean _really_, wealthy businessman. He's the CEO of a bank company or something – not really quite sure. Ryuuzaki and he had some sort of an affair and then some huge scandal started."

He shot Ryoma an uncomfortable look. "It's not my place to tell. If Ryuuzaki doesn't want to tell you, she probably doesn't want_ me_ to you."

"Hnnn…are you giving up a chance to show your brilliancy?"

"What are you talking about? I'm always brilliant!" Horio said indignantly before looking at his company with narrowed eyes. "What is it with you and Ryuuzaki anyways?"

"None of your business." Ryoma said dispassionately, before strolling off the court in search of some other prey that could give him some more information. And hopefully, this time, it would be more informative.

But the tennis star couldn't help but wonder: if even _Horio_, who would honestly love to gain attention by spreading his knowledge of both useful and useless news, hesitated to give him the past events, who would?

"Hey!" yelled Horio from afar, his tone expressing his annoyance. "Where's the thank you?"

"Your welcome." Ryoma said without turning back. And with a wave of his hand, he disappeared around the corner, leaving a disgruntled Horio in the distance.

* * *

Sakuno sighed once again as she gazed at the white ceiling of her apartment. Fuji called only a few minutes ago to cancel their dinner due to some problems with his client or customer. It then occurred to Sakuno that she didn't even _know_ what Fuji's occupation was.

Feeling tremendously bored out of her mind, she glanced at the clock. There was an annual Sakura Festival that was held in the district of Tokyo each year, often with food, games, and prizes that attracted thousands of people. It was a tradition between her and her grandmother to go ever since she was five. But the past few years had been hectic and frustrating, and it left her little time to enjoy any such luxury.

Her gaze swept to her pink cell phone lying on the kitchen counter. Tomoka was busy editing the next issue of the_ Vogue_, her grandmother was probably out with her other elderly friends, and she was never really close with Horio or the gang.

Looking down on her palms, she realized exactly just how lonely she was. Everyone had their own lives to worry about, and so did she. Yet, there were qualms and a foreboding feeling that so often crept sneakily into her mind, in which she would just push it back.

Sighing once more, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed, wondering if the stress had indeed damage her brain somehow.

"Yeah?" The voice on the other end answered.

Sakuno closed her eyes impatiently. He was just so damn rude. "Echizen," she said, trying to sound as light and cheery as possible. "Are you busy?"

"No."

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to the Sakura Festival with me. It's once a year and all, and you've been away for a l-long time, so I th-thought you'd like someone to show you around. But don't get the wrong idea! I-I just thought it would be as a thank you, for, you know, taking me to the hospital and stuff."

"First, I'm twenty-two, Ryuuzaki, not five. Second, I'm not that big of a jerk to expect _you_, of all people, to take me around Tokyo." Ryoma said it in such a way that made her want to scream.

Sakuno had to recall the basic steps of relaxation and calmness that she had learnt in yoga class to keep from hanging up on her so-called fiancé.

"Yes, I know. I just thought—"

"You already told me what you thought." Boredom rang across his tone.

"I know, but—"

"I know that you know."

_Easy does it, Sakuno. He's doing this on purpose._ Sakuno had to refrain from tearing her hair out. "Okay," she said through gritted teeth, "Forget it."

However, before she could hang up, Ryoma's amused voice stopped her. "Wait. Fine, whatever, I'll go. Where did you want to go again?"

Sakuno stared mutely at her phone, wondering if she really did make the stupidest mistake of her life.

* * *

"Shit, shit, shit!" Sakuno muttered under her breath as she sprinted down the crowded streets. She was twenty minutes late and from her past experience, she knew Ryoma did not like to wait. Arriving at her destination, she found a blasé Ryoma sitting on a wooden bench, his legs propped up and scanning the crowd.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Sakuno apologized heartily while catching her breath.

"Why even bother?" Ryoma said as he looked down at the petite brunette, before walking off into the threshold of the festival.

Sakuno glared up at him before running up to him and shooting him a spiteful glower, "I'm not always late."

"No, just ninety-nine point nine percent of the time."

"At least, I don't make up lame excuses."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, what was the excuse you made when you were late for the tournament when we were still in Seigaku? I can't remember what the tournament was – the district one? Or was it the Kantou? Anyways, you made up most idiotic excuse I've ever heard! 'I met a pregnant woman who went into labor on my way.' Humph!"

"Oishi-senpai _did_ meet a pregnant woman."

"Well, that's different!"

"Yes, and let's hear your excuse."

"W-well, a man decided he wanted to…um…die, so he jumped onto the subway tracks. The whole subway was delayed."

Ryoma snickered.

"H-hey! It's true!" Sakuno retorted, annoyed that her company did not seem to believe her. She suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Ohhhh! That's so cute!"

Following in the direction of her gaze, Ryoma saw a big, fluffy teddy bear, about the size of a small plasma television. It was the shade of honey brown, and its stuffed paws were rested upon its potbelly. Only one word struck the mind of the tennis player: _ew_.

Unfortunately, the man in the booth where Sakuno's current obsession sat spotted them.

"You there!" he called out. "Want to give your lady the bear?"

Before Ryoma could say _no_, he continued, "Just try to hit the tennis balls into the target. If all ten hits the target, and you get the bear. Of course, it's fine if you don't want to screw up in front of your girlfriend."

_How ironic_! Sakuno thought to herself and glanced up at Ryoma's face. She regretted immediately. Ryoma had that trademark smirk on his face – the smirk that all his opponents during a tennis match feared. It generally meant one of the two things, if not both: one, Ryoma had discovered a weakness in his opponents' playing style, or two, they're going to be sorry. Either way, it was pretty much a loud declaration that meant they're soon to be dead.

"Ne," Ryoma glanced at the man. "Does that mean if I shoot all the balls into the target, I'll get every bear?"

The man looked stunned for a few seconds, before bursting out in a fit of laughter. "I like to see you try, young man!" He wiped his tears. "Well, you're confident, aren't you? You see too much of these youngsters who thinks they rule the world everyday, and truthfully, it gets dull." He handed Ryoma a racquet.

If only he knew.

The sad fact was that, yes, Ryoma pretty much ruled the world – at least, in tennis anyways. He wasn't so far back in the world of fashion either.

"Not bad!" The man said as he watched Ryoma hit his first ball in effortlessly.

"A tennis player, eh?" he said when the second ball plonked straight through the target.

When the tenth consecutive ball went in, he was speechless as he watched Sakuno trying helplessly to carry the bear away.

Spending the next three hours watching performances, playing games and eating an assortment of Japanese sweets (and in Ryoma's case, drinking Ponta), Sakuno was quite amazed that they were actually getting along without biting down each other's neck. As pleasant as conversing with Ryoma could go (which was never really pleasant as he would only say a word or two every now and then), it was, for the lack of better vocabulary, _pleasant_. Of course, his ignorance was still a thorn at Sakuno's side, but his arrogance had melted a little.

Ryoma suddenly stopped in front of a booth where they were selling pets. Puppies barked playfully at the customers, lavishing up as much attention as they could possibly get from their cooing admirers. Cats, being cats, were either dozing or licking themselves clean, though plenty of them were staring gruesomely at the critters of rabbits and hamsters nearby.

Sakuno, fussing over a playful shiba inu that was white as snow, looked at Ryoma. His attention was fixed on a particular drowsy cat yawning itself to sleep. With horribly long, white strands of fur that was accompanied by black legs, ears, face, and tail, it gave a pitiful meow before dozing off. It reminded Sakuno awfully of a raccoon.

"Echizen? What's wrong?"

Ryoma seemed to snap out of his trance. "Nothing," he said, before fixing his gaze unto other cats within the vicinity. Seeing nothing that would catch his interest, he walked away with Sakuno trailing behind.

Her brown eyes softened. "Does it remind you of Karupin?"

The name obviously startled him. His amber eyes fixed onto Sakuno's attractive face, before looking away. "Hnnn."

"It must be…hard, isn't it? Traveling around the world and leaving your family behind."

Ryoma did not reply. They settled into a comfortable silence as they stopped by a bench underneath a tree, away from the crowded area.

"He died." Ryoma suddenly spoke out of the blue, his face passive and stoic.

"What?"

"Karupin. He died while I was participating in some tennis tournament."

"Oh," Sakuno said softly. "I'm sorry. I knew how much the cat meant to you."

Ryoma smiled coldly. "And I only found out six months after I finished the ATP tour."

"W-Why didn't your family tell you?"

"They didn't want me to get distracted. It's hard to contact me too, since I'm traveling week after week."

"I've always wanted a puppy." Sakuno said mildly, deciding to cheer up the mood a bit. "My parents were workaholics, so obviously, the answer was a no. I used to get _so_ jealous when I see my friends and their puppies." She chuckled at the very thought "And now that I'm all grown up, I want one even more. It gets really lonely living by yourself."

"So get one." Ryoma said bluntly.

"I don't know, I never really had the guts."

"It's better not to have a pet."

"Why?"

"Too much emotional attachment involved."

"But that's what it's all about, isn't it? That attachment! It's better to have felt it and lost it than never having felt it at all."

"You don't miss what you never had."

"Men: they are all the same." Sakuno rolled her eyes. "But if I were—"

Ryoma stood up. "It's late, Ryuuzaki. We better get going. There's the reunion tomorrow."

"O-Oh, right!" Sakuno was bewildered at the sudden change in him. One moment, he was cocky and annoying, and then he was cold and bitter about life. Now, it seemed he was distancing himself away from her. What the heck was with him?

When Sakuno got home, she was running the whole conversation through her mind. The fact that Echizen Ryoma said something about his past, no matter how little, was really unbelievable. As far as she knew, he was never the one to talk. Sakuno made a little mental note to herself to be more tolerant of his lousy attitude from now on, when her train of thoughts was scrambled by the ringing doorbell.

"A delivery for Ryuuzaki-san," a boy wearing a cap said with two gigantic cardboard boxes placed beside his feet. His hands offered Sakuno a clipboard to sign in which she took it reluctantly.

"Isn't it a bit late for deliveries?" Sakuno asked skeptically.

The boy shrugged. "The person who sent this paid twice the shipping fee. Boss said to get it here presto, so here I am." When he turned to leave, Sakuno stopped him.

"There's no name!"

"Yeah, Boss said to keep it anonymous."

"Is there a note of any kind?"

The boy hesitated, "Yes, but I'm suppose to give it to you after you open it."

"Well, give it to me first."

"You got to open it first, ma'am.

When Sakuno opened the smaller box of the two, the one with a lot of holes for some unknown reason, she gasped. Inside, surrounded by cotton towels and white fleece rugs, lay a sleeping dog – a sleeping shiba inu, to be more exact. White as snow, it whined a bit, and twitched its small paws before resuming back to its original state.

"Oh, that jerk!" was the first thing that came to Sakuno's mind. "After all that emotional attachment crap, too!"

"The dog food, toys, bowls," the boy paused slightly. "And about everything else you need to keep a dog should all be in the other package. The paper of ownership is in there too."

"But I don't want it! Tell me the message and take the dog back!"

"Are you sure you want the message?"

"Yes." Sakuno insisted, glaring at the boy.

Searching through his pockets, he produced a piece of tiny scrap paper that Sakuno herself would've recycled. It was folded in half.

_Shut up and keep it_.

That was it? Forget the mental note of being nicer. He was still a lousy jerk.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update!!! It's that time of the year where everything in life is either screwy, hectic, or just crazy. I don't know if I can update in June – it depends on my limited time! But enjoy for now! 


	11. Drunken Reunion

**Chapter 11: Drunken Reunion**

It had been a week since the festival and Ryoma hadn't contacted Sakuno since. Of course, she didn't want him to contact her – the less of him, the better, she mused. Ryoma meant complications, and complications were what Sakuno wanted to avoid at all cost.

She sat on her sofa, staring at her new puppy. The white shiba inu had decided that the sofa cushions were apparently of better quality than his pink dog cage, and took the liberty of curling up upon it, dozing pleasantly in the afternoon sun. Although Sakuno had phoned Ryoma the very next morning after she had received 'the gift,' the tennis player had turned his cell phone off. It was weird; his phone just so happened to be off every single time she called.

Deciding that she did not need a dog for company, Sakuno had tried to get every one of her colleagues, friends, or family to take him. Nobody wanted him. When Tomoka had heard who the puppy was from, she immediately lectured her on proper behavior and personal etiquette about giving and receiving certain kinds of gift.

"_Sakuno, are you crazy?" Tomoka screamed dramatically over the phone. "Keep the dog! God knows how lonely your apartment is! And don't give me any of your crappy excuses because I know all of them. I know that there are no pet rules, I know that you should keep the dog simply because_ he_ gave it to you, and I know that you secretly want it!"_

And so here Sakuno sat, at loss about what to do with the puppy in front of her. She didn't even name him yet.

When the puppy opened his eyes, his brown orbs lightened up at the sight of Sakuno, and his tail gave a joyful thump. _He_ is_ kind of cute…_Sakuno thought hesitantly. And he sure wasn't loud. From the very first moment she had laid her eyes upon him, he had never barked once. Always expressing his emotions through his body language and eyes, he was quite intelligent too. Sakuno only had to litter-train him for five minutes before he got the gist of where he should empty his bladder.

_Maybe…just maybe…No, no, and no! _

As Sakuno was about to convince herself of the reason why she just couldn't keep the dog, her phone rang.

"Ryuuzaki," Ryoma's voice drawled from the other end.

Oh, so the almighty tennis player decided to grace her with his royal presence.

"Echizen," Sakuno greeted just as curtly.

"Listen, I need you to come—"

"No, you listen!" interrupted Sakuno, who had rediscovered the cause of her anger. "What makes you think that _you_ can just tell me what to do? I-I know that we have an agreement on things, but you can't just decide to call me up and order me around when you ignore my calls!"

Ryoma remained silent as Sakuno continued, "A-And what right do you have to send me a dog? I don't want one!"

"Then give it to someone," Ryoma finally replied matter-of-factly.

"None of my friends want him, so you had better take it back!"

"Then give it to the adoption center."

"Adoption centers won't take him in without a proper reason!"

"Then give it to the slaughter house."

"No! H-How can you even suggest that?" Sakuno asked, appalled by the idea.

"Then give it to me and _I_ will give it to the slaughter house," Ryoma proposed with an evident smirk in his tone, obviously knowing that was out of the question.

And once again, his intuition was right.

Sakuno barely managed to contain her growing frustration. "You–you insensitive, thoughtless jerk!"

"Yes, yes, we've been through all that. I need you to go to the Seigaku reunion alone."

Sakuno's tyrannical speech stopped. This was the exact opposite of what she had expected. Instead of demanding her to go with him as his 'fiancée,' he was now asking her to go by herself. A bubble of mirth swelled inside of her; was it possible that he had abandoned the proposition after all?

"And not," Ryoma added as an afterthought, "Because I'm backing out of our little agreement."

Her bubble burst. Refraining herself from saying something that would later on cause much damage, Sakuno asked, "What are you doing?"

"Commercial filming," was the sour reply from the other end.

"What kind of commercial?"

Sakuno could picture the large, irritated scowl upon Ryoma's sharp countenance as he replied, "Underwear."

* * *

Ryoma was still feeling extremely tense, exacerbated, and wrathful as he stalked down the streets after his tedious and horribly abominable commercial filming. Not for the first time, and definitely not for the last, the tennis star wished that he could strangle Cordac with his own two hands. Stuffing as many _Penn _tennis balls as possible down his throat was not a bad idea, too. 

His manager had decided that it was amusing to watch Ryoma struggle against a group of giggly, compulsive, underwear models, and had signed an endorsement with the company without his knowledge. After four hours of constant harassment and assault, Ryoma miserably wondered if his body had been ruined for…well, forever.

Now, he was tired as hell and late for the reunion.

Arriving at his destination, he glanced at the sushi restaurant and memories of the past rushed fondly through his mind like ice, cold water dripping down his body after a tournament.

As he placed his hands on the shoji door, ready to slide it open, a sudden anxiety that Ryoma rarely felt seized him. It wasn't the jitters that he felt at his first U.S. Open try, nor was it the fear he felt when he thought Karupin was gone. His childhood was right inside this place, right behind this door. And to look at it face to face again was something…something that no words could describe.

Ignoring that anxiety just like he ignored everything he despised, Ryoma slid it open. What was supposed to be loud, stuffy, and cheerful, all fell silent at his entrance. Every single pair of eyes stared up at him, some amazed, some ecstatic, and some curious.

For a moment, no one spoke. It was as if someone pressed the pause button in life, and everyone froze in the midst of their actions. Kikumaru, his features matured and his red hair shabby and long, was still holding his chopsticks with a piece of tuna sashimi clipped neatly in between. A mature and a much more menacing (if that was even possible) Kaidoh was holding a cup of steaming, green tea that was halfway to his thin, pursed lips. Momoshiro was sandwiched uncomfortably between Oishii, who had not changed one, single bit, and a full-grown Inui, who still had the freakishly annoying pair of glasses and short, cropped black hair.

But before Ryoma could observe more, Momoshiro broke the silence with a cheerful, "Oy! Echizen!" Everyone then followed suit.

"Wow! Ochibi's all grown up! You couldn't really tell on T.V, you know, but he's really tall." Kikumaru cocked his head as he observed the cat-eyed boy with his mischievous blue orbs. "Nya, he used to be cuter!"

"Eiji!" Oishi, acting as a mother hen, scolded quickly as he ignored his friend's pout (_"But Oishiiiiii, it's truei!"_) before turning to Ryoma, who was still standing by the threshold. "It's nice to have you back, Echizen."

"Didn't I tell you that drinking milk helped, Echizen?" Inui said, as he adjusted his glasses for a better look. "Look at how tall you grew…must be something in my Inui juice. Perhaps I should try to get someone to endorse it…hmm…"

"Echizen," Kaidoh nodded in his direction before directing his focus back onto his tea.

With his same auburn hair and sharp, blue eyes framed by his spectacles, Tezuka Kunimitsu, the infamous ex-captain of the Seigaku Tennis Team, sat at the high stool with an air of elegance and grace. Sitting poised and with a face as stoic as it was ten years ago, he gave the briefest nod to indicate Ryoma's presence. Ryoma, in turn, nodded back at him. No words were needed – they both knew that it was a great gratification to see each other again.

"RYOMA-SAMAAAA!" A screech pierced through the noise as a brunette-haired woman came dashing up to the wincing tennis star. Grabbing his hands excitedly, Osakada Tomoka looked at him earnestly. "Ryoma-samaaaaa! Come sit down! Remember I reintroduced myself at Horio's club?"

Ryoma blinked. "No."

Tomoka's face did not fall one bit. In fact, much to everyone's surprise, she brilliantly beamed even more, and shot Sakuno a knowing glance. "Great," she clapped her hands excitedly, dragging Ryoma with her. "Come sit down and eat something!"

With an 'oof' Ryoma found himself squashed between Katsuo and Kachiro, both of them whom immediately offered him a plateful of sushi. Takamura, far by the counter making nigiris, gave him a timid smile.

"Oy, Ryoma!" Sumire Ryuuzaki called merrily from her stool, her hands holding a bottle of beer. Despite a few added wrinkles over the years, her physique was in an impressive shape – probably due to everyday tennis practice. "Remarkable win at Wimbledon! Congratulations!"

Ryoma muttered a thanks as everyone started giving out their felicitations.

"You know, it's getting really boring always watching you win. When are you going to lose?" This comment brought on forth a wave of laughter.

"If Echizen keeps his skills honed like this, there's eighty-five percent chance that he's going to win the U.S. Open," Inui stated as he reached for a cucumber roll.

"Hoi, still up with the statistics, eh?" Kikumaru commented through his mouthful of food.

"Well, I_ am_ a scientist, you know. But you're still as childish as ever, Eiji. How's your tennis going? Still flexible?"

Takamura cut in. "Hey, yeah! How's the double tennis thing going?"

Oishii smiled fondly. "It's going pretty smooth, actually. We scraped up some titles in Paris during Roland Garros."

"Wah…" Takamura rubbed his head with a disappointed sigh. "Sometimes, I wondered if I chose the right path."

Oishii, Kikumaru, and Inui immediately set themselves into convincing the sorrowful sushi master that making sushi and eating wasabi was just as rewarding as tennis could ever be. Across from the other side, Momoshiro and Kaidoh were having their own fun.

"Animals do what they have to do to survive!" Momoshiro scowled unpleasantly.

Kaidoh responded equally with a rather nasty glower plastered across his face. "I know, for a fact, that dogs have feelings, unlike you!"

"They can't determine what is right or wrong, you stupid Mamushi!"

"Fshhhh, of course they don't do that, idiot! They do what they have to do! I don't see _you_ thinking when you empty your bowels in the washroom!"

Momoshiro flushed, "My brain is more advanced then theirs!"

"Only by a bit! That's why instead of peeing by a random pole, you pee in your backyard!"

"_What_?"

"I jogged by your house once, and what do I see?" Kaidoh sneered. "You chanting Humpty Dumpty and pulling up your fliers. If not for pissing, were you renacting Humpty Dumpty? Fshhhhh! I don't think Humpty Dumpy peed in the book!"

"You—You! I-I was watering the plants!"

"Oh, yes, watering the plants with your pants down. I bet the plants you watered are just_ thriving_ right now. Does the fragrance also smell like your pee, too?"

"You guys…please! Calm down!" A sheepish and exasperated Takamura said.

"Well, some people certainly never change," an amused Oishii stated, watching their quick banters as Kikumaru excitedly followed the conversation with an occasional, "That's right, Momo!" or "Ouch, Kaidoh's got you!" Amazingly enough, there was also one "Ha! Momo, did you really sit on your goldfish?"

Inui rubbed his head, "At least, their arguments involved somewhat. Their intelligence increased by maybe zero-point-zero-five percent: there are no more I'm-better-than-you kind of thing. Tezuka?"

Tezuka, who was carefully sipping on his can of beer, shot the arguing pair a stoic glance, before replying, "Dogs are smarter than both of them combined." He turned back to his food.

"Too true. Being a lawyer certainly made you frank."

Tezuka ignored the obvious hint of sarcasm.

"Lawyer?" Ryoma choked on his piece of sashimi heavily dipped in wasabi.

Horio, seemingly to pop out of nowhere, gawped, "Eh? You didn't know, Echizen?" With a gleeful Oh-my-I-actually-know-something-that-you-don't smile, he continued, "Tezuka-san was accepted into Yale Law School!"

"Congratulations," Ryoma said sulkily. For the countless time, it seemed that he was the only one who didn't know what was going on with the lives of the old Seigaku Regulars.

"Actually," Oishii said. "We watched your final on Wimbledon. It really was an incredible match! You coming from two sets down to win the last three sets – it's a miracle! Don't you think so, Tezuka?"

"It was good, but not perfect," was the curt response.

"Yes, who would have thought?" muttered Inui. "I re-analyzed the match, and from the first two sets, your serving statistics was at an amazing eighty-two percent, but you lost five of the ten breaking chances. That's some faulty mistake…"

Tuning out what his former senpais were talking about and easily ignoring Horio, Katsuo, and Kachiro's admiring gazes, he graciously stuffed his mouth with some quality Japanese cuisine. It had been_ much _too long since he had real sushi – the ones in the States were so stale and un-Japanese-like. This was what it was supposed be.

Then, it slowly dimmed on Ryoma's unregistered brain that Sakuno wasn't there. Head swiveling around, his distinct, cat-like eyes surveyed the entire restaurant. It was then that he noticed the petite brunette laughing heartily and genuinely by the counter, and sitting beside her, smiling serenely and tucking pieces of sushi into his mouth was none other than Fuji Syusuke himself.

Ryoma glowered in annoyance. It was one thing to be enjoying each other's company, but it was another thing to ignore his presence completely. And for Sakuno to be so happy with Fuji was also irksome. _She_ never acted like that when_ he_ was around him. Not that he cared or anything, but still, the thought kept poking at his mind.

* * *

Sakuno threw her head back and laughed, her stomach hurting. Fuji really had a knack at jokes. 

"Okay, my turn!" she beamed at him. "A really, really fast tortoise raced with a hare. Who won?"

"The hare."

"Nope. It's the tortoise, because I said he was really, really fast."

Fuji gave a weak chuckle.

"And then there was a tortoise wearing sunglasses that raced with a hare. Who won?"

"The hare?"

"Nope! It's the tortoise because he was the really, really fast one from before!"

The man could only shook his head in amusement as Sakuno laughed heartily at her own joke. Admittedly, it was one of the lamest jokes around, but it was amusing all together.

"Oh my," Fuji murmured, his hands resting thoughtfully under his chin.

"What's wrong?"

"I think someone's not happy to see us together."

Sakuno followed the direction in which he was looking, and found Ryoma scowling unpleasantly in their direction while stabbing his chopsticks into a pitiful-looking piece of salmon sashimi. When their eyes met, both of them immediately broke the contact.

Sakuno rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He's being a kid, like always."

"And why is he being a kid?"

"Because he's immature? And stupid?" Was it just her imagination, or did Ryoma's scowl just got bigger?

Fuji decided not to push it and gave her a rueful smile. "So what did you do that day I canceled our dinner?"

"Well, I really needed to get some fresh air, and everyone I knew was busy, so the only person I could call – as unfortunate as it may seem – was Echizen-kun."

"And how did that go?"

"It was…enlightening. Of course, I'm sure it would've been more fun with you." Sakuno smiled at him.

It was then Fuji's phone rang. Excusing himself, he walked out of the restaurant, leaving Sakuno in the company of two bottles of warm sake. Refilling her empty, ceramic cup, she downed the alcohol and looked around, only to see the spot where Ryoma had occupied was empty and void of any person. Glancing at her watch, Sakuno was amazed that four hours had already passed, and she had actually enjoyed herself.

Surveying the restaurant, she found Momo, Kaidoh, and Kikumaru's faces were painted a pretty shade of red, no doubt from the massive amount of beer they had consumed; the ten empty bottles that lay beside them were a clear proof of her assumption. Horio was yet again showing off his brilliant talent at knowing every single fact and detail of every single professional tennis player – courtesy to his twelve years of tennis experience, of course. Surrounding him and listening attentively were Katsuo and Kachiro, both of them giving occasional gasps and sighs of delight whilst Tomoka was bashing Horio on the head with chopsticks every now and then. Oishii, on the other hand, was already fast asleep on the table while Takamura busied himself with cleaning. Tezuka had followed Fuji outside, and her grandmother had taken leave early.

Ryoma was no where to be found.

Maybe he was in the washroom, Sakuno thought as she downed another cup of sake. She was getting lightheaded, with those warm and fuzzy feelings that she knew was caused by the good old alcohol. Of course, it was none of her business – he could come and go as he pleased for all she cared. Sakuno wrinkled her nose and helped herself to another cup. He was such an arrogant brat. Well, he always was, but the media and the money had really inflated his already-enormous ego. She wondered how Ryoma, with his big, fat head, could balance himself properly before the ball hit him and managed to stay poised.

At the mere thought of him, Sakuno grabbed the sake and decided to just chug it down. Forget decency – everyone here was either drunk or close to it, anyways.

As she sighed at the slight, burning feeling of the alcohol that tingled down her esophagus, Fuji strolled in, looking terribly sorry.

"Hey, Sakuno-chan, I have to go," he said, his ever-sincere smile still intact. "Something came up with one of my clients, and Tezuka needs to be there too."

Sakuno gazed dreamily at him. "No problem."

"Do you want a ride home?" he asked, his face falling into a slight frown at the sight of Sakuno's dazed visage. "You're drunk. I'd better take you."

"No, no! I'm not drunk! Besides, Tomo-chan said she'll be dropping me off!"

"Saa…are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" she slurred, then cocked her head sideways. "Why are you all fuzzy, Fuji-san?"

"Maybe I should get a cab for you."

"No, no. Tomo-chan's a great driver, you know! Passed her test with a perfect score! But then, I think – I think," –_hiccup_- "I think the tester was her boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend, but he,"-_ hiccup_- "was her boyfriend during that time. Or wait…was it the brother of her ex-boyfriend? Maybe it was her boyfriend's best friend…hmm…I can't remember." She giggled. "Why are you looking at me like that, Fuji? You look as if you want to take me to a hospital!"

Indeed, Fuji was contemplating on what to do with the drunken girl before him. But before he could say anything else, Tezuka appeared, looking as stoic as ever. "Fuji," he nodded and signaled at his silver watch that was wrapped tightly around his wrist.

Sighing, the prodigy nodded in return and looked at Sakuno. "Sakuno-chan, make sure Tomoka-san brings you home, okay?"

The woman nodded cheerfully, unaware of what he had really just said.

With another dubious look, Fuji turned around and followed Tezuka out of the restaurant shoji doors.

Sakuno, looking around, noticed her best friend's disappearance. Was she in the washroom too, just like Ryoma? What was up with the weak bladder? Shrugging, she glanced at the clock and grabbed her purse through her hazy vision. Everything was so blurry! The beer bottles swirled, her stone-gray cup was mixing with the soft beige color of the counter, and the ceiling lights were flying everywhere. Standing up, she wobbled out of the restaurant without even looking back. There was no need to say goodbye – the group had decided to meet up for a tennis bash a week later.

Occasionally having to stop and regain her balance, Sakuno strolled blindly down the streets, entirely spellbound at the pretty headlights that were shooting down the roads. Some of it made honking noises too – what fun! Giggling to herself, she kept going, going, and going, until she heard familiar sounds of rhythmic bounces against the wall. Squinting closer for a look, she saw an awfully recognizable form and approached him.

* * *

He was extremely annoyed. Of course he wasn't angry at what he had overheard. The conversation between Sakuno and Fuji was purely based on friendship, and even if it was more than simple friendship, it didn't matter to him. It was just a sudden sensation that he felt like pounding tennis balls against the wall. For some reason, imagining the tennis ball to be Fuji's disgustingly smiley face made him feel a whole lot better. 

"_Well, I really needed to get some fresh air, and everyone I knew was busy, so the only person I could call – as unfortunate as it may seem – was Echizen-kun."_

As much as he hated to admit it, what she said had really bothered him. It wasn't jealousy – definitely not, but there was something tugging in his brain and pounding in his heart.

"_It was…enlightening. Of course, I'm sure it would've been more fun with you." _

His grip tightened on his racket. He had never, ever been a substitute of any man before. Never. But this – this pathetic, weanling of a girl had made him just that. A substitute.

"Ryoma-kun?"

Ryoma caught the ball he was pounding on and turned around to face the source of the sound. And there stood Sakuno, her face flushed and her doe-brown eyes glazed. She was smiling in a childish way, almost as if she was about to burst into a fit of giggles.

Ryoma eyed her warily. If his memories didn't fail him, the last time she had called him 'Ryoma-kun' was ten years ago. The last time she was about to giggle like the way she did now was also ten years ago. Something wasn't quite right with her.

Sakuno took a step towards the tennis player, and swayed a bit before regaining her balance. It was then that it dawned on Ryoma.

_Shit. She's drunk. _

When the petite woman had finally reached the startled Ryoma, she closed her eyes and fell forward into his arms. The racquet that he was holding dropped onto the cemented floor, and the sound that erupted reverberated into the night.

Sakuno heaved a satisfied sigh and snuggled her face into his shirt, wrapping her arms around him.

"Ne, Ryuuzaki," Ryoma said, shaking Sakuno's shoulders. "Ryuuzaki!" There was no response. "Sakuno!"

"Hmmm?" Sakuno stirred in his arms, and then snuggled closer.

A waft of sake and strawberry-vanilla hit Ryoma's nose. "Stand up properly."

"But I don't want to!" Sakuno pouted childishly, rubbing her head against Ryoma's chest. For a moment, something tightened in the tennis player's stomach, but it disappeared as quickly as it arrived. "You're so soft and comfy, like a big pillow."

Ryoma raised his eyebrows. He had been called many things, from a bastard to a god; being called a big, comfy pillow was certainly a first, and he wasn't sure if he quite liked the idea. Of course, it may just have been Sakuno's mental state of mind for the moment, but still. A pillow?

"But you know what? I think you're more like a teddy!"

He snorted.

"Cute and fuzzy and soft and cute and big and cuddly and….did I mention cute?"

"You're drunk, Ryuuzaki."

"I am _not_!" The sleepiness had immediately faded from Sakuno's eyes, and instead, a childish anger replaced her former emotion. "I'm perfectly aware of everything. See, you're Ryoma-kun! I can see you!"

Ryoma slowly pried Sakuno's arms away. "I'll take you home." Supporting a protesting Sakuno in one hand while stuffing his racquet and tennis ball into his bag with the other, he escorted her down the street. Ryoma vaguely wondered why he hadn't driven his car to the reunion today when Cordac's words came flowing into his mind.

"_I signed you into a climate change committee that promotes the welfare of the environment. They namely deal with global warming issues. So no cars, Ryoma, no cars. I don't care if the media doesn't know you're in Japan. If some paparazzi get you in your fancy, slashy Lexus, you are history, you hear? NO CARS."_

Scowling, Ryoma looked down at Sakuno, who was still muttering incoherently. Even in her drunken stage, she was still easy going on the eyes. In fact, Ryoma thought she looked prettier – her cherry-red lips, her flushed, smooth complexion, and those innocent honey-brown eyes. She was so vulnerable. For the second time tonight, he felt something strange welling up inside of him, but quickly suppressed it down.

"Ryoma-kun!" Sakuno suddenly spoke up and gazed at him cheerfully, breaking away from his hold. She swayed a bit but regained her balance.

He ignored her.

"Ryoma-kun! Ne, Ryoma-kun!" When there was no response, Sakuno flicked the bridge of Ryoma's nose with her nimble fingers. The result was an extremely surprised Ryoma halting abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk, and Sakuno have a fit of giggles at his expression.

Never, never, _never_ in his_ entire_ life had someone ever _dared_ to flick his nose. _Never. _If it wasn't a tennis ball that hit his face (courtesy of his pathetic excuse of a father), it was his grandmother lathering horrendously watery kisses onto his cheeks. But flicking his nose? Sakuno was the first. Those who attempted it all ended up flat on the ground, regardless if you were of the male or female species.

When Ryoma came out of his reverie, he shot Sakuno a nasty glare and stomped ahead, regretting the very moment that he had offered to take the drunken woman home. Sometimes, he wondered if his gallantry and chivalry was even appreciated – apparently, it was only worth a nose flick. Seeing a vending machine nearby, he shuffled for coins and bought a Ponta before continuing the trek, trying to soothe his mind of the idea that someone dared to_ flick his nose_.

Sakuno giggled and followed, her steps springy and light. "Ryoma-kun! I'll tell you a secret if you promise never to tell anyone!"

Ryoma glanced at her while sipping on the can of pop and did not reply.

"Promise, promise?"

It came to the tennis player that the petite woman would not stop nagging him unless he spoke. Sighing, he said sulkily, "Yeah."

Sakuno gave him the brightest beam and reached out with her hands. Seeing Ryoma's clueless look, she gave an indignant huff. "Pinky swear!"

Making a disbelieving noise at the immaturity of it all, he sullenly did as she wanted.

"Okay, don't tell anyone, but I think you're very, very good-looking." Sakuno blushed as red as a tomato. Ryoma couldn't help but feel amused, and a smirk broke upon his brooding countenance.

"I used to have a crush on you, too…"

"And now?" Ryoma couldn't help but ask that question.

The brunette cocked her head and stared at him cutely. "I don't know…I'll have to think about it…Let me get back to you on that, hmmm?"

Ryoma bit back an amused smirk.

"A-and I-I think that I…" Sakuno trailed off, her dazed eyes swerving here and there. She broke into a whisper, "I think that…" She motioned for Ryoma to lean closer, and he complied. "I think that it's cute when you're cocky and arrogant." She flushed a bright red. "A-and I-I l-like it w-when you're mean to people."

"Do you?" Ryoma murmured, his gaze fixed intently upon Sakuno's girlish face. Those lips – they were so damn mesmerizing. The curve of the lines, the way it shaped for every word, it was just so tempting to lean in and steal a kiss. When she licked her lips, Ryoma almost gave in to his desire that had sprout out of nowhere.

He could smell the strawberry-vanilla scent that belonged to Sakuno as a few strands of her brown hair flew around wildly due to the rising, night breeze. Ryoma had leaned down and was face-to-face with her, his sharp, amber cat-eyes searching for her avoiding brown ones. Obviously, Sakuno was still embarrassed about the little secrets that she had blurted out, as her cheeks were still glowing a pretty shade of pink. When her eyes finally met his, he snapped away quickly.

He could almost bark with laughter. Since when did he go for silly, little girls, much less a drunken one? He could practically get any women he wanted, and yet, this pitiable slip of a girl was the one to entice him. He was utterly, absolutely, disgustingly pathetic for wanting to take advantage of a drunk woman. She was the daughter of his former coach for god's sake, and connections like that just made her a no-target zone.

Sakuno blinked at him innocently before a frown settled across her feminine features. "What's wrong, Ryoma-kun?"

"Nothing," was the grumbled reply.

"Humph! You're so moody! Why, if you were a girl, I would've thought you'd probably have your PMS! Wait…does guys have PMS? Because they should, you know. Why do women have to suffer so much? They have to endure the pain of pregnancy, the annoyance of their PMS, the discrimination of simply being a female," Sakuno rambled on.

Rolling his eyes, Ryoma pulled his blabbering companion onwards. By the time they reached Sakuno's apartment, his ears were starting to sting from enduring the non-stop mumble-jumbles that Sakuno came up with. And mind you, most of them were loads of rubbish.

Ryoma knew there were two types of drunken people: the first one being that the drunk was able to recall everything and anything that happened; the second one was completely clueless and would have no idea what they had done. He couldn't help wonder which category the girl belonged to.

Grabbing the keys from Sakuno's purse, he opened the door and flicked on the light. He was startled to see the white puppy he had give to Sakuno sitting there by the door, his blue eyes narrowed suspiciously at the stranger accompanying his owner. After a few more minutes of regarding Ryoma, who was busily settling an extremely sleepy Sakuno onto her bed, the shiba inu decided that the man was not a threat to his household, and therefore, happy and content, leapt up the bed to join Sakuno, his fluffy, white tail wagging happily.

Ryoma gave him an odd look. Doesn't the dog bark or attack at all? Not that he wanted the dog to harass him (god knows he needed his arms and legs for the tournament), but really, a dog had to do a dog's job, and in this case, it was to warn Sakuno of intruders.

Deciding that wasn't the matter at hand, he rolled off Sakuno's socks and tucked her in bed. She responded by snuggling deep into the quilt and purring in contentment. Before Ryoma could leave, she opened one of her eyes and demanded, "Give me a kiss."

The side of Ryoma's mouth twitched. "Go to sleep," he murmured.

"Not until you give me a kiss!"

"Why do you want a kiss so bad?"

"B-because Kagemoura always did so!"

That finally sparked Ryoma's interest, and all his previous temptation of complying with the woman's wishes washed away. "Kagemoura?"

Sakuno's eyes saddened and nodded like a child who had lost her favorite toy. "He –He always said he'll be there for me…b-but he left me."

"Why did he leave you?"

"He had a wife and two children, but I never knew. He lied to me. He was a liar! A big, big liar!" Sakuno's sniffed, eyes tearing at the thought.

"Did he…did he do anything else?"

Sakuno stared up at him, her eyes wide with tears. "Yes. He tricked me and I was in trouble."

"How?"

She sniffed. "T-that's a secret." A pause. "Now can I have the kiss?"

Ryoma sighed. He leaned down slowly, and with reluctance, pressed a gentle kiss on Sakuno's forehead.

"Good night, Ryoma-kun." she whispered as he walked out the room.

"Good night…Sakuno."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Okay, you readers have the right to scream and yell at me for my almost non-existent updates. I said it'll be up in a month, and it wasn't. Then I said it'll be up the month after that, and it wasn't. So you guys are welcome to pelt as tomatos at me to vent your frustrations. And all I can say is: I'm so sorry! Like I said, my life is frantic, and I recently sold my beloved horse (he was my baby) so I still have to deal with the papers and my occasional burst of waterworks. But I hope this super-duper extra long chapter made up for it! You guys are seriously awesome. Thanks to my awesome beta – without her, you guys wouldn't be reading this right now! Anyways, I'm making no promises for when the next update is, but don't you fear, people! I'll never abandon this story (I hope…). 

Also, because of my extremely busy beta-reader, I think it's high time I get another one. As I always say, "two heads are better than one." If you have any suggestions or comments or anything, email me! This way, I'll actually reply…


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